


If You Let Me

by bunivy



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Mortal, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Family, Friendship, I promise, Multi, Mutual Pining, Romance, Sabrina Spellman hates Nicholas Scratch's guts at first, Slow Burn, but they work it out, lovers to enemies? to friends to idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 145,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22167097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunivy/pseuds/bunivy
Summary: After pouring all of her time and effort into obtaining a law degree in the city, Sabrina Spellman moves back to Greendale for one last summer before she departs for good. She's fully intent on enjoying her stay in her hometown, even deciding to pick up a part-time job at her Aunt Hilda's cafe to save up some money. The only problem is that the boy in the bookstore across the way is one she's had some not-so-good history with and it's becoming increasingly harder to ignore him. Before long, she finds herself exploring the complexities of old high-school grudges and what-ifs, all while trying to sort out her present-day relationship with the boy she has long since deemed as non-existent.Meanwhile, Nicholas Scratch wonders if it would just be easier to remain non-existent.
Relationships: Nicholas Scratch/Sabrina Spellman
Comments: 650
Kudos: 392





	1. stray lights

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm back and I'm super excited to share this mortal AU that I've been actively pondering for the last few months. It's a bit more 'slice-of-life' than my last fic, but there is a bit of tragedy and angst within this one, too, so be forewarned! Along with the romance that our main pair is going to be navigating in their own special way, this fic will also focus a lot on family - not just the blood kind, but the found sort, too :)
> 
> ALSO, I'm super excited to announce that this fic has a spotify playlist to go along with - curated by yours truly! It features some of the songs that really helped me get into the headspace while writing this, so give it a listen! More songs may be added on as we go. Click [HERE](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2qRf3EnpIS5lFCnUdcuehN?si=tg3blK9XQ3mrlIlS4L0QXA) for the playlist!
> 
> You can also give my newly made tumblr a follow if you'd like to follow along with any art I make for the fic or just my random thoughts regarding CAOS. That's [HERE](https://bunivys.tumblr.com/) if you're interested!

*

_t h e n_

“Nick.”

She pressed the button on her old iPhone before he had the chance to realize what was happening. There, in the second before his grin faltered back into his trademark smirk, she snapped a photo.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask before you do that, Spellman?” 

On her screen, the image of Nick reflected back at her - toothy smile donned, night-sky eyes creased, the ghostly shadow of a curl hanging in his face. This was the image of Nick she most appreciated - the one where he didn’t hold back, didn’t mask anything. It was a rare sight.

“You looked too happy not to,” Sabrina explained, dropping her focus from photo-Nick to real-Nick. He squinted back at her through the sunlight, brows knitted. “Besides, if you’re going to put your number in my phone, I’m going to need a picture of you to go along with it.”

Nick chuckled. “You’re funny,” he said, and then flicked the sheath of papers in her hand, his fingers grazing hers in the slightest. Fire licked at where he had touched her. “Stop distracting me and read your lines, Juliet.”

*

_n o w_

“So, cousin, how does it feel to be back?”

Sabrina gazed out of the window, eyes bright with excitement. Ahead, the lush trees of Greendale’s woodsy environment were coming into view. Quickly, her nimble fingers hit the button to roll down the window in the passenger seat of Ambrose’s car. She inhaled a long and steady breath, allowing the hometown’s familiar aroma to fill her lungs. “I’ve missed that smell,” she exhaled. “It’s just so... _green._ ”

Ambrose smirked. “Miss the city yet?” he asked.

Sabrina shook her head as she leaned a bit out of the window. The breeze whipped her hair back, sending her loose curls flying. Her eyes fluttered shut and she allowed herself to take in the feeling, allowing any of the anxiety she’d had after rolling into the nearby Riverdale train station to fade. It had been some years since she’d officially lived in Greendale and things will have likely changed - _people_ will have likely changed. It was odd, after spending a great deal of time in the concrete jungle, to return to a place in which nature roamed freely. There were no more towering buildings made of glass that extended seemingly endlessly into the clouds. The tallest things here were the trees.

She had to admit, she'd been a little bit afraid to come back, but now, only a few miles from town, she found that it was more invigorating than nerve-wracking.

It felt like home. It _was_ home. As much as she had previously desired to leave, to make a name for herself, to experience all that the world outside of Greendale had to offer, she was happy to be back.

This summer, she decided, she would make the best of her time there. And then, she would be off again, on to her next adventure, this time with a law degree under her belt.

“No,” Sabrina finally answered. “I’m sure my answer will change once I remember the total of five restaurants Greendale has, though.” She supposed she could learn to live without the late-night sushi trips she and her college friends often liked to indulge in. And Uber? She wondered if that had even reached their tiny time-warp of a town yet.

“Well, you might want to roll that window back up soon. We’ll be passing by the Griffins’ farm and their overabundant use of manure hasn’t gone down any since you’ve left,” Ambrose explained, one hand placed casually on the steering wheel as he glanced in her direction.

As if right on cue, the potent and unrivaled scent of cow shit tainted the air around them. Sabrina hastily rolled up the window, covering her mouth as she did. Beside her, Ambrose started to laugh but ended up gagging on the rotted air instead. 

“Told you,” he managed to choke out, and she couldn’t help but break out into a giggle because even the disgusting stench of manure had stirred the nostalgia in her stomach.

_“Yawwwrrr!”_

With her hand still over her nose, Sabrina craned her head into the backseat where Salem sat in his cat-carrier. He glared back at her through gold eyes, not at all happy with being shoved into the backseat of a car and then hauled off at an ungodly speed down a winding road. The train ride over had been nothing compared to the crazy way Ambrose liked to drive.

“Shut it, back there,” Ambrose called back.

“Hush, Ambrose. He’s nervous,” Sabrina explained. “He’s never been in a car before and you’re not exactly the best at keeping the speed limit.”

Ambrose just shrugged. “There’s no one else out here but us.” He looked into the backseat through the rearview mirror, spotting Salem. “I think you should’ve told the aunts - particularly Zelda - about your decision to bring along your street-rat.”

“He’s not a street-rat,” Sabrina shot back. When she had originally found Salem behind the dumpster of her favorite Chinese place, snacking on a container of tossed out take-out, he had been a bundle of matted fur and ribs, sitting barely bigger than the palm of her hand, but now, after months with proper nourishment and love, he was a rather beefy boy and even a bit intimidating. A guard cat if she’d ever seen one. Anyone who had ever dared to brave her tiny apartment had been faced with the wrath of Salem. “And Aunt Hilda will love him. Zelda will learn to tolerate him. It’s only for the summer, after all.”

“If you say so,” Ambrose replied. “But if you fall in love with Greendale, you may decide you never want to leave again.”

“I doubt it,” Sabrina said, returning her gaze back to the approaching downtown district of the town. They would take the route through in order to get to the mortuary, which lay on the other side of town, along the outskirts. As they slowed down to a more town-friendly speed, she let her eyes wander over the buildings, tracing their silhouettes. It was mid-day and people were out - shopping, running errands, and so forth. Groups of teens on their summer break sat goofing off in front of the arcade. Sabrina exhaled a slow sigh.

She’d made a multitude of memories in the tiny town, too - most good, some bad, and a few somewhere in between. She supposed she’d become reacquainted with them the longer she stayed. Already, some were flooding her mind. Nights at the movie theater with her friends, the smell of popcorn hanging heavy in the cramped rows of the tiny building, the sugary sweetness of the milkshakes that would follow as they barged into Cee’s later, eager to theorize and discuss. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest.

It had been a long time since they’d all been together like that. When she’d come back into town for the previous Christmas break, they’d managed to sneak away for a quick lunch, but it had been nothing like before. They had all been too busy with their own families that spending time with each other had been minimal.

The downtown district disappeared just as quickly as it had come into view. It was a tiny thing, after all.

Sabrina reached forward and cranked up the volume on the radio, flooding the car with a song she and Ambrose were both familiar with. She looked over at him with a big grin and they both dissolved into their own slightly off-tune renditions on the lyrics, hand gestures and all.

One last good summer, Sabrina decided. She would try her best to achieve that.

*

Sabrina set Salem’s carrier down at the entrance to her old room. In a second, she would set up his litter box in her adjoined bathroom so that he could relieve himself after the long ride like she knew he probably wanted to, but first, she allowed herself some time to breathe in the stale air of the bedroom. The walls were still covered with all of the relics of her youth - old photographs, a calendar from her senior year of high-school, tickets from previous horror showings at the Paramount, even the ribbon she’d worn in her hair for her senior prom with Harvey. All of it made her feel warm.

Sabrina knelt down to unhinge the door of the cat carrier. Salem waltzed out, not all bothered by the new environment, and began to sniff around.

“Hilda’s on her way home. Zelda is at the Richards’ for an in-home funeral consultation for their grandfather, so she won’t be home until later,” Ambrose said as he entered her room, shutting the door behind himself as he did. He glanced at Salem, who had immediately come up to him. Ambrose held his gaze. “Listen, you, we’re going to set some ground rules here. You are not to go into my room - that’s upstairs in the attic space - under any circumstances. I don’t have a fondness for cat hair, you hear me?”

Salem dropped his gaze, becoming incredibly interested in licking his paw and seemingly ignoring Ambrose all together. Sabrina laughed.

“He’s a cat, Ambrose. He abides by no rules - not even mine.”

“Sabrina?” the familiar voice of her Aunt Hilda trailed up the stairway, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. The door to her bedroom opened again and red-faced Hilda appeared, arms immediately opening to engulf her in a hug. “Oh, goodness! It’s so good to see you, love! I’m so happy you’re here for good now!”

“For the summer,” Sabrina squeaked out as best as she could through the force of Hilda’s embrace. “But it’s good to see you too, auntie. I’ve missed you guys so much.”

“We’ve missed you, too, dear.” Hilda pulled back momentarily to look at her, eyes sparkling with that motherly glitter Sabrina was so used to seeing in her aunt. It instantly soothed her, just as it had in the past. “I’ve changed your sheets and stocked up your bathroom with all of the essentials again. You’re all good to stay with us for the long run and oh-!” She squealed when Salem bumped his wet nose against her ankle. “Who is this?”

“Salem,” Sabrina introduced hesitantly and with a careful smile. “He’s going to stay with me if that’s okay. I found him outside when he was just a tiny kitten. I think he would’ve starved out in the cold if I hadn’t taken him home.” Sabrina purposely added in the last part, hoping it would be enough to sway her aunt. Hilda, in most cases, was a bleeding heart and recuperated her fair share of baby squirrels and little motherless birds, so she wouldn’t be a hard one to win over.

Zelda was a whole other story.

“Oh, well, hello Salem,” Hilda said, giving the cat a little pat on the head. He seemed okay with it, despite his usual distaste with anyone other than Sabrina touching him. “Welcome to our home. I happen to love little critters like you - Zelda, however, not so much,” Hilda said, making direct eye contact with Sabrina when she mentioned her other aunt. Sabrina gave a bashful smile back.

“Zelda’s only ever liked one other animal,” Ambrose started, drawing a deep sigh from Sabrina.

“Yes, and his name was Vinegar Tom,” Sabrina finished. She remembered the grouchy old beagle that had once haunted the Spellman mortuary. He had been Zelda’s shadow and Sabrina was certain her aunt would have picked him over any of them had she been forced to make such a decision. Vinny’s eventual death had done a number on Zelda. He was the only dog Sabrina had ever known to be buried in a full mahogany casket crafted entirely for him. Some people didn’t even get that luxury.

“Zelds can be reasoned with at another time,” Hilda piped in. “I’m going to go downstairs and get a nice lunch started for us. A nice serving of some blueberry tea to go with it, hm?” Sabrina and Ambrose both nodded eagerly. Sabrina’s stomach growled at the mention of something to eat. She had barely had time to grab breakfast before her travels that morning and had settled on a bagel with no cream cheese because she had forgotten it. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need up here, love.” She gave her niece a warm smile and another quick hug before she departed for the kitchen, humming along the way.

Sabrina looked around the room once her aunt was gone, her eyes eventually settling on Ambrose. “I guess we can go and get the rest of my bags, then,” she decided. 

“You mean, _I_ can get the rest of your bags while you pretend to be busy with something else?”

“ _Me?_ ” Sabrina feigned. “I would never...though I really _should_ go and set up Salem’s litter.”

Ambrose groaned.

*

“Sabrina?”

“Coming!”

Sabrina darted across her room, searching for her wallet among the chaos that was opened luggage and clothing. She would have to sort all of that out later, but for now, Ambrose was taking her out to dinner at Cee’s. Hilda’s lunch had consisted of a light salad, which was all too unusual for her aunt, who normally went out of the way to celebrate even the most mundane events. 

Eventually, she had pestered Ambrose about going to dinner earlier than he had planned, but he was adamant they stick to the seven p.m. time frame. She was bordering on hangry now.

Sabrina descended the stairs two at a time, her wallet snug in her purse, and her curls thoroughly fixed. She had settled on a pair of jeans and a simple red blouse - the only one she had pulled from her luggage that _wasn’t_ wrinkled.

“Ready?” Ambrose asked at the front door. She gave him a nod.

“Yes, seeing as for whatever reason my never-before-cared-to-make-it-somewhere-on-time cousin wants to be somewhere on time, for once.”

Ambrose chuckled. “You’ll survive,” he said, clicking the button to unlock his car. Sabrina slid into the passenger side and buckled herself in. 

“I was going to invite Theo, but he hasn’t texted back,” Sabrina murmured, a bit upset that one of her best friends was seemingly too busy to respond to her - on the day that she had returned to town, at that. It was unlike Theo, but she figured, perhaps, he truly was just busy.

Ambrose didn’t seem to care all that much. “I’m sure he’ll get back to you.”

Sabrina sighed and settled back into the seat.

At Dr. Cerberus’, the street was lined with cars, but the restaurant seemed vacant from where she stood. “Have the windows always been that dark?” she asked. Frankly, the establishment looked closed. Even the sign that generally read ‘open’ wasn’t flashing its usual red color, in fact, it wasn’t even on. “I think it’s closed…”

Ambrose was behind her, a couple of steps away, and not appearing to be in any hurry to enter. He motioned to the door with his hand, ignoring her remark. “Go ahead.”

Sabrina gave him a skeptical look but gave the door a push anyway. It gave and before she could even register what was going on, the lights came on and she was standing before a crowd of people, packed into entrance-way of the restaurant like a pod of subway goers. They reacted before she could, bright smiles and party-poppers armed. 

“Welcome back, Sabrina!” they all shouted, pulling the strings on their poppers and allowing for the various colored confetti to rain down on them. After the initial shock had left her body, she found herself smiling, realization falling onto her. It made sense now why Ambrose had declared they go exactly at seven.

She glanced at decor they’d all hung haphazardly across the diner. A large banner was strung from the ceiling, big silver balloon letters spelling out, ‘Welcome Home’. A large portion of the bar seating area was layered with various handmade dishes. In a town like Greendale, she wouldn’t have put it past everyone to have brought something to a gathering such as this one. Her aunt had likely crafted a great deal of it, too.

Theo was on her before she could say anything, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Brina! Welcome home! I’m sorry I never texted you back - I didn’t want to risk ruining the surprise like I knew I would’ve.” He pulled back to reveal his grin. Sabrina’s eyes welled up with tears.

“It’s fine, Theo - God, I’ve missed you so much!” She pulled him into another hug just as Ambrose finally entered behind her. Sabrina looked at him over Theo’s shoulder. “You planned this?”

“A little. Roz was the one who put it all together, I was simply following orders.”

“Roz planned this all from Seattle?” Sabrina asked in disbelief. Her friend was currently away, deep in her own medical studies at the University of Washington, and yet was able to somehow string together something for her return. 

“Well, she had help from a few of us,” another voice said. Sabrina looked up to see Prudence Night, stunning as ever in her perfectly manicured state, heading in her direction. It had been a long time since she’d last seen her high-school rival, but from what she’d last heard, her and Ambrose had a thing going - which was odd in itself but Sabrina wasn’t one to judge. They were polar opposites, but she supposed that was what made it work.

“I can’t imagine you had anything to do with it,” Sabrina replied, a bit jokingly. 

Prudence shrugged. “I do enjoy a good party. Not much else goes on around here.” She wasn’t lying. That much was true about Greendale.

Another familiar person quickly came into view. “Brina!”

“Harvey!” Sabrina called, running into his open arms. He lifted her, spun her around, and then set her down again. His cheeks were flushed with excitement. 

“It feels like it’s been forever,” he exhaled with a big grin. “How was the last bit of law school?”

Sabrina sighed. It had felt like a long time coming, but she’d finally graduated. “Exhausting and thankfully over.”

It was odd how easily the two of them had settled back into being friends after their separation. Their relationship - the romantic aspect of it, at least - had ended some time into Sabrina’s second year of college. They’d both decided it was better, easier, to love each other this way.

Sabrina took in the others, greeting them as she entered the diner fully. Cee was at the very back, mingling around the buffet. He’d immediately hugged her as well, giving her silvery locks a quick ruffle before badgering her about her studies and time away. For as long as Sabrina could remember, her aunt and Cee had been together. He was the closest thing Sabrina had to a father at that point.

Drinks were served as well, and she had helped herself to one of the house-made frozen margaritas. Cee didn’t often serve alcohol at his place, but this was one of the rare occasions when he’d brought out his less than average bartending skills. Sabrina didn’t mind. It was the thought - and the people - that counted. 

She spent most of the evening chatting and catching up with those she hadn’t seen in years. 

At the end of the night, she found herself nestled on a bar-stool with Ambrose, Prudence, Harvey, and Theo flanking her. 

“So, what’s your plan that you’re back?” Theo asked. 

Sabrina smiled and swirled the margarita slush around in her cup. “Well, I’m going to take it slow for a couple of months. Aunt Hilda already told me I could pick up some shifts at the cafe to make some extra money and keep myself from going entirely sir-crazy.”

Ambrose smirked. “We could definitely use an extra hand.” From what Sabrina had heard, the business was booming as usual - even more now that Greendale had gained a few office buildings, drawing in people from the neighboring towns. A place like Hilda’s, crammed into the center of a homely and very cozy town, was the hot-spot for those with early morning jobs.

Often times, Ambrose was stuck managing the place on his own, so she had been more than open to the idea of helping out. The cafe had been at Hilda’s hand since she was a little girl and even now, she could vividly remember the after school evenings spent playing between the tables with Ambrose.

“It’ll be like old times,” Sabrina replied with a determined smile. In high-school, it had been her small source of income. Ambrose’s too. She had spent plenty of weekends there, churning out latte after latte and selling Hilda’s homemade sweets by the dozen. From what she’d heard, _Sweets by Hilda_ had acquired all sorts of new fancy machines, and though she was certain there would be a learning curve, somehow she felt it wouldn’t be too different to when she worked there as a teenager.

“I’ve tried, multiple times, to acquire help elsewhere, but some of us seem to be too good to work in an establishment such as a cafe,” Ambrose said, side-glancing at Prudence, who just rolled her eyes in response.

“The steam wouldn’t do well with my nails,” she explained. “And I do just fine in real-estate. I don’t have the time for side-hustles, like you.”

“ _Ouch_ ,” Ambrose whined. Sabrina snorted into her glass. Ambrose had his investments elsewhere, but Hilda signed over half of the ownership of the bakery to him. Technically, he would be her boss. Sabrina had opted for law school instead, wanting to follow in the footsteps of her father. “The life of a doormat,” he sighed a few seconds later.

Prudence giggled. “Oh, please, you’re not a doormat,” she soothed. “More like a well-crafted rug, I’d say.”

“A step above,” Ambrose said, taking a long sip from the liquor in his glass.

“Thanks for doing this,” Sabrina said. “All of you - even Prudence. It’s really nice to see everyone in one place. It’s not often it happens anymore.”

Ambrose ruffled her hair. “Anything for my favorite cousin,” he said. Sabrina resisted the urge to swat at him and remind him that she was his _only_ cousin. “We’ve got everyone here. All of us somehow managed to clear our schedules. Speaking of which,” He paused for a second to glance at Prudence, as though accounting for someone else. “Prudence, will that brother of yours be gracing us with his presence this evening?”

Sabrina froze, the hairs at the back of her neck standing like rows of tiny soldiers. Her fingernails dug into the side of her glass.

The man in question - who happened to not be Prudence’s brother by blood, but rightfully in every other aspect - was _not_ someone she had expected to come across in Greendale. Last she had cared to hear, he’d booked it out of Greendale the second he’d had the chance, though she had personally chosen to unsubscribe from his newsletter of bullshit long before his final disappearance. She would never know what came of him - until now, that was.

Nicholas Scratch was in Greendale.

The boy who had once swept her up in his dark allure and off-kilter smirks, the very same boy she had once damned to the deepest crevices of Hell, was back in the very same town as _her_ \- Sabrina Spellman, the girl who had promised herself the likes of him would never ever even grace her thoughts again, much less her life.

“Unlikely,” Prudence declared, her smooth voice pulling Sabrina from her enraged thoughts. “After he closes the store tonight, Amalia’s got him booked for a late dinner at her place. You know he never breaks a promise when it comes to her.”

“Nicholas is in town?” Sabrina asked, ignoring the vile taste that his name had peppered along her tongue. 

Ambrose nodded. “He’s been in town for what...a couple of months now?” He looked to Prudence who just nodded in confirmation.

 _Great_ , Sabrina thought. She was an optimist by all means, but she couldn’t help but feel as though her parade was being rained on. It was her party, she wasn’t supposed to be mad about anything.

“I suppose it’s good to see he’s settled down,” Sabrina said, allowing the cool condensation along the exterior of her drink to calm her senses. Whoever Amalia was, Nick had deemed her important enough not to backtrack on his words. She felt a bitter wave wash over her because she had once trusted him enough not to do the same to her. “And learned to keep a promise, at that.”

“Settled down? _God_ , anything but.” Prudence, still cat-like and clever, drew a smirk across her lips. She had always been rather gifted at reading people - whether for her own uses or not. “I sense some bad blood, Sabrina. Do spill?”

Theo made his presence known. “Nick stood her up senior year,” he answered. Sabrina shot him a pointed look, questioning where his sudden desire for betrayal had come from. Theo shrugged as though not understanding why it mattered.

Prudence laughed and stepped back, resuming her previous nonchalant stature. “Really, Sabrina? You’re bent up over something so frivolous as a high-school date. It’s been years.”

It _had_ been years, Sabrina remembered, but her experience with Nick had also gone further than just a date - unbeknownst to Prudence and her friends. 

She swallowed down the memories that threatened to unearth themselves the longer she reminisced - the pair of hands trailing up her sides, the curve of a smile pressing against the sensitive skin of her neck, the feeling of soft curls under her fingertips--

She quickly brought her drink up to her lips in an effort to cover the heat that had returned to her cheeks. Since when did she allow herself to melt over the old fragments - crumbs, more like - of potential relationships past? That was the thing of Hilda’s romance novels, not her life. Her heart was precious and it did not need to weep over old broken things.

Sabrina steeled herself and changed the subject. “And yet, the last time I saw you, Prudence, you made it a point to remind me that you’d won Prom Queen - three times over.”

“Did I?” Prudence asked innocently. “I don’t seem to remember that - but now that you’ve brought it up, I _did_ win didn’t I?” Then she smiled coyly and Sabrina rolled her eyes, playfully. 

As much as she and Prudence had been rivals during their time at Baxter High, they’d hit their limit at some point. Out in the real world, where titles like Prom Queen and Valedictorian were non-existent, it just didn’t make sense to continue hating each other. She hoped that the dreadful feeling behind the prospect of sharing Greendale’s small streets with Nick would diminish in a similar manner. 

“You didn’t win by much,” Harvey butted in, ever the chivalrous side-kick. “Only by a couple of votes if I’m correct”

“Your sisters were in charge of counting the ballots if I remember my cousin telling me. Perhaps, there was a miscount. Dorcas has never been the smartest,” Ambrose teased, pulling Prudence in a bit closer. Prudence rolled her eyes and pushed him away as he went in for a kiss.

Sabrina thought of the two other sisters - Agatha and Dorcas - and how they were nowhere to be seen. She supposed they were likely busy, too. It didn’t matter as Sabrina had never really been close to them, either. 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and pulled it out to peek at the screen. A photo of a smiling Roz reflected back at her. Sabrina pushed back from the counter and set her drink down. “I’m going to step out and take this call. It’s Roz,” she confirmed and briskly made an exit for the door. It had been Roz’s sharp mind that had managed to plan her welcome-back party from across the country, after all, and she needed to thank her for it.

It would also be nice to step away from the not-so-small small talk.

“Brina!” Roz’s voice cut through the silence out in front of the diner, filling Sabrina with warmth. Though they called each other constantly and FaceTimed when they could, she still desperately missed her friend. 

“Roz, hey,” Sabrina exhaled. 

“Are you at the party?” 

“I am,” she confirmed. “Thanks so much for that, by the way. I have no idea how you managed to flawlessly plan a party from where you are, but you did it.”

She could practically hear Roz smiling. “I have my ways. Are you enjoying it?”

“I am.” Sabrina smiled too, whatever tension had lingered from before was fading away - fast - the longer she talked to Roz. “There’s one person missing, though.”

“I’ll be there in a few weeks,” Roz confirmed. “It’ll fly by before we know it. Well, before you know it. It’ll definitely be painstakingly slow for me, over here.”

“I can’t wait,” Sabrina breathed. “I miss you. I miss us - Theo, Harvey, you, and I. I’m dying for a movie night with you guys.”

Roz giggled. “You’ll have to handle the boys by yourself for a little while, but we’ll have a movie night as soon as I fly back. I promise.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Something across the street stirred. Sabrina looked up to where _Cassius’ Books_ sat just across the way a slight bit to the left. There was another voice that radiated from the phone, muffled somewhere in the background. Roz mumbled something to them and then returned to her attention to Sabrina.

“I’ve gotta run, Brina. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Sabrina answered, eyes still drawn to the bookstore across the way, watching as the lights went out inside and the door opened. “I’ll talk to you then. Bye, Roz.”

The line clicked just as a shadowy figure stepped out. Under the street light, the inkwell of dark hair was unmistakably _his_. It stirred something in her stomach - painful and sharp. It felt as though a thousand tiny knives had suddenly taken up residence in her body, poking at her from every angle. 

The person gave the doorknob a jiggle before he turned, his silhouette revealing itself under the pale yellow light, and then, his eyes caught hers.

Nick.

They both froze - his keys hanging in his hand, her phone still pressed to her ear - and for a second, she thought she heard her name carry over on the breeze, quiet, barely a whisper, and tinged subtly with a hint of something distant and forlorn. 

No.

Sabrina spun on her heel and plunged back into the warm safety of the diner, leaving whatever stir of emotions he’d invoked within her to die on the sidewalk where they belonged, where he had left her standing years ago.

Not again, she told herself.

_Not ever again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's Sabrina got against Nick, if not just a grudge over being stood up? Maybe they were a bit closer than that? ;) We'll find out soon enough. This fic will have lots of memories peppered through to help guide the narrative. Also, anyone wondering what Amalia's relation to Nick is? Hint: she plays an important role in this story! Hope you guys enjoy, and please let me know what you've thought of the first chapter!


	2. bitter like chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all - sorry to Harvey for calling him out like I'm about to in one line in this chapter. We stan (1) crybaby - never forget that. I just respect sweet lil baby Harvey, thanks to Sarah Rees Brennan. But seriously - don't be mean to him. Only Nick's allowed to be lol.
> 
> Get ready to meet someone - or something - else from Sabrina's past.

*

_t h e n_

The bells above _Cassius’ Books_ chimed. 

“Now, Sabrina, you’ll be what?” Zelda Spellman asked, one hand holding a loose grip on Vinegar Tom’s leash, the other a slightly firmer grip on her six-year-old niece’s hand.

“Good,” Sabrina answered.

“Fine afternoon, Ms. Spellman,” Cassius greeted. He bent down to Sabrina’s level, donning a warm smile. “Hello, little Sabrina. You’re bigger every time I see you.”

“And you’re older every time I see you,” Sabrina replied with a tone of utmost respect. She’d meant it as a compliment and was unaware that it would likely not come off that way. 

Zelda tightened her grip on her hand, trying her best to keep from appearing too embarrassed. “ _Sabrina_ , what did we talk about?”

But Cassius only chuckled and held up a hand to show that she’d done no harm. “That’s quite alright, Zelda. She’s as observant as ever.” He gave Sabrina’s hair a little ruffle and stood. “What are we in for today?”

Zelda, eager to let the debacle fizzle, quickly shifted the subject. “Sabrina’s been asking for a new book to read. I thought we’d stop by and pick something up.” She looked down at her niece. “You’ve been a very good girl, haven’t you?”

“I ate all of my carrot soup and didn’t have to pull any cards at school all week,” Sabrina declared proudly, hands resting on her hips as though the achievement was one for the books - literally. “I want a new _Junie B. Jones_ book. The B stands for Beatrice, but she doesn’t like it. Almost as much as I don’t like carrot soup.”

Zelda gave her shoulder a squeeze. Sabrina smiled bright and proud.

Cassius gave a hearty, amused laugh. “Well, that’s great to hear. Come along, I’ll show you where those books are.”

She shook her head and held up a hand. “I can find them. In school, we have a library and Ms. Peterson lets me find my own books.” She looked to her aunt for permission. Zelda gave her a nod and she ran off in the direction of the kid’s section, just as she and Cassius dissolved back into another conversation.

On her way to the section, she passed the register and paused, noting the pair of feet that stuck out from behind. They were small, like hers, which meant it was another kid. Sabrina, never shy or afraid of others, immediately trudged over, eager to find out who it was. Maybe it was one of her friends from school.

Underneath the old wooden desk that doubled as a register sat a young boy holding a flashlight and shining it over an open book. He looked up when she peeked in.

“Hi,” Sabrina said, squinting her eyes to see if she recognized the boy. She didn’t.

The boy startled. “You’re not supposed to be back here,” he immediately responded.

She didn’t find his rudeness charming so she shot back with, “then why are _you_ here?”

“Because I’m _allowed_ to be. You’re not.”

Sabrina crawled underneath the desk anyway. Her aunt Hilda had said if she should break any rules, she should keep it to once a week, at max. She supposed this could be her one for the week, as long as Zelda didn’t find out.

“What’s your name?” she said, ignoring his previous statement. “My name’s Sabrina Spellman, but my friend Roz just calls me Brina.”

The boy was hesitant. “Nicholas,” he answered, finally. Then, a little quieter, “but I like Nick.” 

Sabrina held out her hand for him to take. “Shake it. That’s what grown-ups do when they meet new people.”

Nick shook her hand, one little dark eyebrow raised. Sabrina got that look a lot.

“Why does Mr. Cassius keep kids under his cash-register?” she asked a couple of seconds later.

Nick shut his book and tucked it aside. “He’s watching me while my mom works and I like it down here because the adults can’t pat my head and call me cute,” he explained. Then he paused, the flashlight catching her silvery locks. Nick’s face shifted to something between curiosity and amazement. “Is that your _real_ hair?”

“Yeah, Aunt Hilda says it’s fairy-hair,” Sabrina explained matter-of-factly. She was unaware that Hilda had presented her odd locks as something magical to make up for when other kids at school teased her about it.

“I like it,” Nick commented. “It’s cool.”

“Thank you very much,” Sabrina said, remembering her manners. If Aunt Zelda heard her, she would be very proud. “How come I’ve never seen you at school? Do you go to Greendale Elementary School, too?”

Nick shook his head. “My sisters and I stay at home for school.”

“You should come to my school. My friends can be your friends, too. There’s Harvey, Roz, and Susie.” She paused. “But don’t be mean to Harvey ‘cause he’ll cry.”

“Sabrina?” Zelda’s clear voice echoed through the small store. “Have you got your book yet?”

Sabrina began to shimmy out from under the register. On her way out, she paused and then made the decision to grab Nick’s hand. “Come on, Nick. You can meet my auntie and, if you want, you can even pet Vinny. He doesn’t care about anything.” She giggled. “He’s a dog but my auntie talks to him like he’s a person.”

Out from under the register, Nick let the girl with the ‘fairy-hair’ lead him away.

*

_n o w_

Sabrina trudged through the muddy, rain-soaked lawn, Ambrose trailing behind her. Around the side of the Spellman home, under an old wooden awning, she stopped before the item of interest with her hands on her hips. In front of her, in the shape of a car, sat a mound of yellowing fabric.

“You want to drive _that?_ ”

She craned her neck to glare at Ambrose. “Be nice,” she warned. Shifting her attention back to the car, Sabrina extended out her hands, grasping the dusty material and with a slight cringe, she tore it off in one swift move. The fabric fell to the side, revealing an old, beat-up Toyota that looked as though it belonged more in a junkyard than their yard. The pale red sun-damaged paint was peeling off in large chunks and passenger side mirror had seemingly fallen off the face of the planet some time ago. 

Sabrina stood back and smiled as though it didn’t faze her. 

Ambrose eyed her with a calculated expression, perhaps wondering if she had forgotten to pack her sanity along with the rest of her belongings when she returned to Greendale. “I don’t know why you won’t just get a new car now that you’re graduated. You deserve it.”

“I might’ve graduated from law school, Ambrose, but I haven’t got lawyer money yet.” She licked her thumb and leaned forward to clean a smudge off of the windshield of the car, ignorant to Ambrose’s eye-roll. “Marge can get me through the summer.”

Ambrose kept his distance from the metal beast. Obtaining tetanus so early in the morning was perhaps not in his best interest. “Tell me again why you call it - her - Marge?”

“Because she’s only ‘Marginally’ more dangerous than the other vehicles out on the street.” The car had been nicknamed by Theo, the more comedically-enhanced member of their friend group. The name stuck after that. Ambrose just stared back, unblinking. Sabrina shrugged. "It's an inside joke. You wouldn't get it."

Sabrina reached into her pocket for the key and then made an attempt to get into the driver’s side. The door stuck, but after a few rough tugs, it finally came free. It creaked loudly, causing her to wince. She did her best to play it off.

Ambrose took a couple of hesitant steps forward, peering at her through the passenger side window. “You sure you don’t want to just...borrow my car?”

“I’m sure I’d like to have my own while I’m here,” she replied. Back in the city, she’d had no use for a vehicle. She walked to most places and if need be, took an Uber or cab anywhere else. Greendale was a small enough town to walk, but the mortuary was a good distance away from the center of town where the café was located, so a car would make things a whole lot more convenient.

She stuck the key into the ignition and turned it. The first attempt fizzled, but on the second, she started up - much to her surprise.

Marge was a piece of junk - Sabrina wasn’t entirely deluded - but she was special to her, in more ways than one.

First, Marge had belonged to her mother. The dearly departed Diana Spellman - the woman Sabrina never had the chance to know - had purchased the car herself, long ago when it was still nice and sort of new. It had been the car that had driven Sabrina back from the hospital after her birth, marking it as the very first vehicle she had ever been in with her parents. It was sacred in that sense.

She tried to envision it: her father behind the wheel, her mother in the backseat, bubbling over her newborn baby, both of them unaware that their time was limited, and Sabrina, unaware that she would grow up without them.

Second, Marge had been the first car Sabrina had ever driven, as well. In high-school, after begging her aunts to finally allow her to get a driver's permit, Marge had been the vehicle Zelda Spellman trusted her not to entirely total during her first lesson - the hearse had been off-limits. There were scratches and a few little dings from where she’d gotten too close to the driveway gate.

Ambrose let her have another second of sentimentality before he tapped the window. “No way in Hell am I getting into this metal demon. We’re expecting another bout of rain and these tires will definitely need replacing before they’re ready for any wet roads. We’re taking my car to the café.”

“But-”

“No.”

Sabrina opened her door, nearly hitting Ambrose with it. “I can’t stand you,” she grumbled. As much as she wanted to give Marge a spin around time for old time’s sake, she knew he was right. The car would likely need a bit of service before it was ready for Greendale.

“Well, maybe if you grew a few inches you could,” Ambrose said, then sped off before her kick could land.

*

Sabrina stared up at the bright yellow sign that hung over _Sweets by Hilda_. It was a spot of sunshine among the backdrop of early summer rain that currently loomed over Greendale.

Ambrose went off ahead of her, withdrawing his keys from his pocket as he did. He held the door open for her once he had it unlocked. “Welcome back to _Sweets by Hilda_ \- a little more renovated since the last time you saw it, but still sporting the same rustic charm.”

The aroma of baked pastries and freshly ground coffee hit her like an ocean wave as soon as she entered. It was warm and familiar.

Hilda stuck her head out from the back as soon as they entered. “Good morning my little doves!” she called, holding her floured hands up as to not brush them along anything. 

“Morning, auntie,” they replied in unison.

“Ambrose, get Sabrina settled in, please. I’d like to stay back here and get these croissants sorted before we open,” Hilda said before she twirled out of the storefront, humming as she did. Sabrina had almost forgotten how bubbly her aunt could be even in the early mornings. 

Ambrose trailed off behind the counter, leaving Sabrina standing at the center of the café. “First things first - your apron and name-tag.” He shot her a finger gun before he disappeared into the back.

Sabrina hesitated. Her eyes traced the inside of the café. The walls, which had been a pale yellow before, were now painted a more vibrant shade. Pops of greenery hung from the exposed wooden beams above and along the large windows at the front. Among baking, Hilda also specialized in handling plants. She had a green thumb and it bled into all parts of her life. Sabrina had grown up with all sorts of herbal home-remedies at her disposal. Lavender for a goodnight’s rest, a smudge of white sage to wash away any bad energy, a bit of oleander should she ever need to poison anyone - actually, that last one may have been her aunt Zelda’s.

She wandered toward the machinery, her heels clanking against the hand-laid ceramic tiles. They were the same, untouched from when the building had first been crafted, with randomly placed tiles of hand-painted daisies strewn amongst the solid colored ones. One day, as a little girl, she had been so bored she’d attempted to count all the petals in the whole café and it had ended with her asleep under one of the tables. She’d woken up later with the grout lining mirrored on her cheek. 

The stainless steel machines were cool to the touch, not yet warmed for the day. Much to her relief, they had acquired an industrial-sized espresso maker. It would make serving multiple drinks a much easier feat now. 

Ambrose swung open the door to the back once more, startling her. He extended his arm, shoving an apron in her direction. Sabrina took it, slipping it around her neck and tying it around her waist. At the center of the apron, near the neckline, sat a small embroidered daisy - their logo - with the cafe’s name beneath it. He also handed her a name-tag, a little wooden bit with ‘Sabrina’ printed on it in black. 

“Let me show you how to operate the new machines, mostly because I need at least one cup of coffee before we open the doors for the day.” He began hitting the power buttons on the various machines. “The businessmen of Greendale can be rather ruthless in the mornings.”

Sabrina fixed her name-tag to her chest and followed him, watching as he checked the fridges to make sure they were well stocked with all the different types of milk they were bound to offer. 

“We’ve just begun serving nitro cold brew,” Ambrose explained, pointing to the tap next to the espresso maker. “Be prepared for the better-than-you crowd that’ll come in requesting it as an excuse to push their essential oil MLM junk on you. Also, we’ve now got oat-milk for all those following the path to absolute plant-milk enlightenment.”

Sabrina snorted. “I like oat-milk.”

Ambrose looked at her hard through narrow eyes, analyzing her in the way she understood was meant to be judgemental. “The city really _has_ changed you,” he said, sounding a little betrayed.

“I think I’d like an oat-milk latte to start the day,” Sabrina pushed.

He begrudgingly shoved the carton of organic oat-milk in her direction.

A few minutes later, after getting a good grasp on the new setup and machinery, Sabrina stood before the first latte she’d crafted since her return, admiring the near-perfect rosetta atop the mico-foam. She had to admit, she was a bit surprised she was still able to do that.

“I’ve still got it,” she proclaimed proudly. 

“You do,” Ambrose agreed. “But you’ll have to learn to do that a bit faster if you want to keep up.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Hilda slid the door to the dessert display closed after cramming in the last of that morning’s pastries. Her aunt rose early every day to make sure the shop was well stocked with baked goods, as it was imperative to her that everything be crafted fresh. She left to the back for a second and returned with a tray of Pan Au Chocolat, still warm from the oven. “How about some breakfast?” she asked.

Ambrose and Sabrina helped themselves, both eager for the treat.

Sabrina felt her entire body relax as the gooey chocolate interior of the pastry met her taste buds. Her aunt’s chocolate croissants were, by far, one of her favorites - flaky, buttery, and generous in chocolate. She realized just how much she had missed them in her time away.

After their quick breakfast, Ambrose went to open the doors. “Ready?” he asked. She gave him a thumbs up and just like that, her first official day back in _Sweets by Hilda_ began.

“Good morning, welcome in!” Sabrina greeted as their first customer charged in.

*

“Where the hell is it?” Sabrina grumbled, shutting her empty luggage for the third time. She could’ve sworn she’d packed it in there, but after checking one final time, it became painfully obvious that she hadn’t.

She decided to sit in the center of her room for a good few minutes, irritated and worn out, before she finally collected herself. 

Her first day back at the café had gone swimmingly and with very little mishaps. There had only been a few cups of coffee spilled - mostly because she and Ambrose were still working to get back into their previous rhythm. Apparently, he had a direct path he followed through the front line as he prepared orders and took money and she had happened to step into the way a couple of times.

It would be something she would pick up eventually. Soon enough, the two of them would be back in sync, slinging drinks and warming pastries like a perfectly coordinated pair. Until then, she would just have to deal with Ambrose’s irritated remarks as she narrowly missed spilling piping hot coffee on him.

“What are you looking for?” her aforementioned cousin asked from her doorway.

“A book,” Sabrina exhaled, uncrossing her legs in front of her. She made no attempt to get up. “My copy of _Women Who Run with the Wolves_. I thought I had packed it, but I can’t find it.”

“You sure you didn’t forget it?” Ambrose asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against her doorway. 

“I didn’t. I did a thorough sweep of the apartment before I left for good. There was nothing left behind.” Then she froze and sat up suddenly. “ _Oh no_.”

“Oh no?”

She pulled herself up and off of the floor, groaning as she did. “Last I’d read it, it was out on the fire escape. I got a phone call and I went in to grab it. I got distracted and I remember correctly, I never went back out to get it,” she explained with sudden clarity. “It’s probably still out there.”

Ambrose shrugged. “Shouldn’t be a big deal. Just run to Cassius’ and grab another copy. They’re still open for a couple of hours.”

Sabrina narrowed her eyes at him. “And risk seeing _him?_ No thank you, Ambrose.”

He blinked in response. “Him?”

“He-who-must-not-be-named,” Sabrina said as though it were obvious. Ambrose still wasn’t catching on.

“Voldermort’s at Cassius’?” He paused. “I thought the Harry Potter event they ran was over last week?”

“No, idiot,” Sabrina said. “ _Nicholas Scratch_ is at Cassius’. I saw him leaving the other night and Prudence mentioned he works in a store - I’m smart enough to put two and two together. He works at Cassius’ which means I’ll be staying far, far away from it.” 

Ambrose exhaled. “Sabrina, you’re an adult now and, from my impression, Nick’s not a bad guy. He’s certainly not going to bite if you visit the store - not even if you ask politely which _believe me_ , I’ve tried.”

Sabrina scrunched up her nose. “Okay, _ew_.” She tried to scrub away the image of her cousin attempting to seduce Nick. “And I may be an adult, but I don’t forgive so easily when it involves my heart.”

“He stood you up for a date. He didn’t leave you at the altar, cousin. I think you’re blowing it out of proportion.”

“I’m fully within proportion,” Sabrina shot back. Then, staring at her cousin in a cozy hoodie, a thought occurred to her. She left the room, nearly knocking him over in the process.

“Where are you going?”

She ignored him and continued up the steps and through the archway in the attic that went into his quarters. There, she began to rummage through his dresser, ignoring the drawers full of underwear and socks until she found what she wanted.

“I have an idea.”

Ambrose followed, the way he did any time Sabrina declared she had a good idea, just in case it wasn’t, which happened more often than not. He paused when she withdrew one of his hoodies and immediately began wiggling her way into it. “What are you doing?”

“Disguising myself,” she answered nonchalantly. “Just in case he _is_ there.”

Ambrose examined her. “You look like you might be robbing the place.” 

Sabrina paused by the door. “Nick robbed me first,” she declared and then left before he could ask her to explain.

*

Unlike the coffee shop, Cassius’ Books remained much the same. The emerald green sign with its golden embossed letters still hung high above the glass doors, a beacon for any Greendale citizen with a literary craving. Inside, the same wooden floors, polished so they gleamed under the store lights, creaked ever so slightly under Sabrina’s foot. The air was still just as pungent with the aroma of ink and stale paper - not in any sort of unpleasant way, just in the noticeably nostalgic manner. 

The only difference in the shop seemed to be the fact that the boy who had once stowed himself away under the register now, ironically enough, occupied it. Sabrina had just the faintest of seconds to notice his head of dark hair before she ducked behind a shelf near the entrance. He was sorting through some books with his back turned to the door, having not noticed her at all despite the chime of the bell. It was to her relief.

“Alright.” She froze in her tracks when he spoke. Cool and collected. Nick had always had a way of sounding confident when he spoke, like everything he said was rightfully warranted even if it wasn’t - even if he was lying. She supposed that was how he swindled so many girls into blindly following him. “What mom bought and then returned this copy of _Fifty Shades of Grey?_ The spine’s creased.”

Another voice answered him shortly after. “Actually, you’ll be surprised to learn that it, in fact, was not a mom, but one Mr. Richard Aaron from the newspaper company.” 

There was a snort. “Gross.”

“What’s gross is that judgemental tone to your voice, Nick. Mild BDSM literature isn’t just for the unsatisfied mothers of Greendale.” There was a pause. “Want to know what’s even grosser though? It’s that he tore out and kept most of the sex scenes.”

There was a ‘kerplunk’ as the book was, as Sabrina assumed, tossed into the garbage. “I’ve got to ask Cassius what the process of banning someone for life entails. Also, I’m going to wash my hands.”

“You can’t get Cassius to ban anyone. He’s too nice.”

She pulled the hood of Ambrose’s borrowed hoodie a little more snugly over her hair and proceeded forward before the crescendo of nerves booming in her stomach made her abandon this project of stealth.

Sabrina hurried down the aisles, slipping around the few people that were still browsing the shelves for an evening read. She smiled politely at an older woman with a very large bag who made it difficult for her to continue her quest in peace.

Once she was down the aisle labeled ‘E’s’, she relaxed. Just a little longer now. She supposed she could focus on figuring out how exactly she would pay for it once she actually had the book in her hand.

Sabrina got to work looking for her book.

“Estés,” she whispered to herself, repeating it over while she searched. “Aha!” 

There it was at the very top shelf, and there she was of less than average height.

No matter, she thought as she pulled herself to stand on her tiptoes. If she could scale the kitchen cabinets as a kid to get to the sugary snacks Zelda hid from her, then she could scale a bookstore shelf.

Her fingertips grazed the spine of the book just as someone came up behind her.

“Hang on,” said the voice. Sabrina froze. A hand grasped the book, the skin olive in tone, a shade or two darker than her own. She hated that she could recognize him just by his fingers. “This is a good one,” he commented once he had the book. “Although I don’t recommend climbing on the shelves for it. They aren’t bolted down and could probably kill you.”

Sabrina spun just so that she could glare at him. The hood slipped back, revealing her crown of white hair. 

In front of her, Nicholas Scratch was a vision in his own right. Ebony hair, styled so that his loose curls were neat and orderly, perfectly tousled in a way that made her fingers twitch at her side. Warm skin, a touch paler at the sight of her. He wasn't expecting her either, from the looks of it.

Then there were his eyes, dark and unparalleled. They reminded her of baker’s chocolate. The sort that Hilda favored for her baked goods. Once, in childish curiosity, she’d swiped a piece of it off the counter when her aunt wasn’t looking. She had expected something sweet and delicious but had walked away with nothing but disappointment and bitterness in her mouth. 

He left her feeling the same. Even now, even years after she had tasted him.

Something loomed in the pit of her stomach - unease with a tinge of something desperate, something almost longing. Her body, a traitor. She swallowed the feeling down. 

“Sabrina.” She shivered as a ghost of something tickled her collarbone, dragging up along her neck and to her ear. The remnant of a kiss, lingering from before, she realized. “I thought that was you the other night,” he continued, the smallest of smiles gracing his lips. She didn't dare look at him, not entirely. The charm had always been in his smile.

“I’m sorry,” Sabrina said and then, before she could stop herself, “do I know you?”

She could tell by the way his shoulders slumped that he hadn’t bought her lie. It wasn’t a shock - she’d never been a good liar. He’d told her that once before, in fact.

His eyes fell to the book and he thumbed it briefly before holding it out to her. He didn’t meet her eyes, and for that, she was grateful. The air between them had soured ages ago and now, it just felt awkward.

“I guess not,” Nick said. “Here. Sorry to hold you up.”

Sabrina had every intent to leave, to forget the book entirely and go home defeated and somewhat embarrassed, but she felt it hard to move under his gaze. There were things unsaid, unfinished, and even in her state of complete displeasure, she knew that.

She glared at the book his hand, refusing to take it. She made her decision. “Never mind,” she murmured and then hastily turned on her heel to make her grand exit now that her plan of dropping in and buying her book unnoticed had gone awry.

Except Melvin swung around the corner, holding a stack of books that nearly toppled over when he saw her. His eyes lit up with recognition. “Sabrina!”

Sabrina gave him a timid smile back. She’d always liked Melvin. He was friendly enough, but she was not really in any mood to catch up now. “Hi,” she replied, stopping mid-step awkwardly. 

“It’s been forever,” Melvin continued. Then he looked between her and Nick, who stood back, appearing just as awkward as she felt. “You two catching up? Wow, it’s unreal how everyone’s ending up here again.”

“Yeah, unreal,” she replied. Unreal was one way to put it.

“I heard you went to law school,” Melvin said. “Can you believe how much everything has changed? Remember back in high school when Nick had a crush on you?” He bumped Nick playfully, as best as he could without dropping the books. 

Sabrina shrugged. “I don’t really remember, no.”

It was silent. She thought she could poke a hole through the tension in the room.

And then Nick spoke. “I’m going to the stockroom.”

“Why?” Melvin asked. “Sabrina just got here.”

“I have things to do,” Nick insisted, “in the stockroom.” His fingers were nimble as he slipped the book back into its spot. Sabrina tried hard not to fixate on his exposed forearm, along the curves of his bicep she swore were more pronounced now. His eyes didn’t meet hers again. He slipped away quickly, ducking behind the shelves. A couple of seconds later, she heard the door to the stockroom shut.

“I don’t know what his problem is,” Melvin said.

“I have to go,” Sabrina blurted out. “Sorry, Melvin - catch up another time?”

He looked a little confused, like he wasn’t sure what he was missing. “Sure. See you around Sabrina.”

She ducked out just as quickly as Nick.

Outside, on her way home, she counted the cracks in the concrete until she ran out of sidewalk, wondering why she still tasted bitter chocolate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else read Junie B. Jones as a kid and thought she was the realist bitch out there? I wanted to be her.
> 
> Anyway, what did we think of this chapter? Did we enjoy young Sabrina meeting young Nick? They were so sweet then. We will get a little bit of Nick's POV down the line but for the first few chapters, it's solely Sabrina.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts in the comments! Thanks for everything!


	3. you were blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else dying over the possibility of nabrina going wrong in Part 3? Yeah, me too...

*

_t h e n_

“God, Scratch,” Sabrina huffed as she scanned the crowd.

The nearby city’s Science Center was abuzz with Greendale’s youth. Mrs. Stuart, Baxter High’s science teacher and organizer of their field trip, stood at the center of it, desperately trying to account for her students. As her appointed ‘student assistant’ for the trip, Sabrina stood at the opposite end with her own clipboard, doing just the same. She raised her hand and jumped in place to catch her attention.

“Nick’s missing,” she called over the chatter, “I’m going to go find him!”

Mrs. Stuart gave her a thumbs up, her expression tight. Sabrina knew Nick would receiving a rather hefty lecture from her as soon as she tracked him down, but knowing him, he would charm his way out of that, too. 

Down the wide hallway, she took a turn to the right. 

“Nick!” 

Her voice reverberated down the empty expanse, but she got now answer back. She sighed. The Science Center was large - three stories high with dozens of rooms, most of which were full to the brim with large scale exhibits. She wouldn’t be able to just ‘peek in’ and spot him. 

She began to brainstorm. 

_If I were a horny teenage boy, where would I hide?_

After wandering the hallways for a few more minutes, she spotted a pair of double doors, one of which was slightly ajar. The sign on the adjacent door read ‘Planetarium - Closed to the Public’ but Sabrina had the sudden notion to ignore it - she had a feeling _someone else_ had done the same.

The door swung open quietly when she nudged it. Inside, the room was dark, bathed in dim, dreamy hues of blues and silvers. The nebulas of color swirled and bled into each other like watercolor. 

Her eyes shifted up, toward the source of light, and then she gasped softly.

Across the dome ceiling of the expansive room was entire night sky, clear as could be, glittering constellations and all. It took her a few moments to realize it was a computerized screen and not some elaborate painting.

When she looked down again, she saw him. Smack dab in the middle of the planetarium, sprawled out on his back between the middle aisle of seating, was Nicholas Scratch.

“There you are,” Sabrina said as she neared, startling him enough that he turned to look at her. “We’re getting ready to leave soon. You should be with the others.”

Nick smirked at her. He pulled one arm out from beneath his head to pat at the spot beside him. “Take a load off, Spellman. We’ve still got some time.”

Sabrina stayed standing. “We’ll get left behind, Nick.”

“We’ll be fine,” he promised, flaunting a little playful glint. 

She considered him for a second and then plopped down beside him, though she remained seated. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt. “We’re not even allowed in here,” she pushed.

“Since when have you cared about rules?” he questioned. She shrugged guiltily. Fair enough, she decided. 

“You can see the entire sky,” Nick continued as he returned his gaze overhead. “There isn’t a view anywhere like this. Not even Greendale.”

“That’s because they aren’t real,” Sabrina reminded him. It was all digitally enhanced and meticulously positioned. The real sky could look nothing like this.

“Mm,” Nick murmured. “What’s wrong, Spellman?” 

Sabrina shook her head when she realized she might’ve come off a bit harsh. She wondered how he could read her so easily. “Nothing's wrong, I'm just a little worn out from herding our classmates around.” She paused. “I don’t think I could ever be a teacher.”

Nick chuckled. “Well, Billy and his horde of idiots are here, so I don’t really know what you expected.”

“Aren’t you one of his idiots?” Sabrina teased. Billy Marlin was the captain of the Baxter High’s football team, but Nick played, too, and he was good, if not even better. Though, she would never admit that to him. 

“Only on the field,” Nick joked right back. “Seriously, you should lay back. You’re really missing out.”

Sabrina didn’t fight him that time. She snorted and fell back against the floor, scooting until she laid beside him. When the entire expanse of the sky revealed itself, when twinkling stars against the dark blue of the night sky became all that she could see, she finally understood why he’d been adamant she lie down. “I guess the view _is_ nicer from down here,” she decided, very much in awe.

“Told you,” Nick said. 

They settled into a comfortable silence. She held her clipboard to her chest, staring up at the vast sky, nearly forgetting that it wasn’t real. Getting up to leave would be a much harder feat now, she realized. It was much too beautiful of a setting to just up and desert. Perhaps, Mrs. Stuart would have to send someone after her, now.

“What are you looking at?” she asked when she caught him focused on a particular spot above.

“Polaris,” Nick said. “The North Star.”

Sabrina searched the skies for the aforementioned star. “That’s the brightest one, right?”

“No. That’s a myth,” Nick confirmed, looking at her with a little smirk. “Thought you’d know that, smarty-pants.”

“Shut up,” she returned, elbowing him in the side. He gave a quiet yelp that made her giggle. “Astrology isn’t really my strong suit.”

“It’s not mine either, but I do enjoy it,” he said without tearing his eyes away from the ceiling above. Sabrina snuck a look at him, watching as the purposely over-exaggerated sky bloomed starlight across his cheeks. 

She turned her focus back to the ceiling before he caught her staring, trying instead to locate the North Star.

“It’s right there,” he said a couple of seconds later, after spotting her scouring the skies. He held his pointer finger up toward a portion of the ceiling.

Sabrina held her finger up, too. “There?” she asked.

“No. Here, let me…” He shifted closer until his shoulder brushed against hers. She inhaled sharply as his fingers trailed up her arm, eventually stopping at her wrist. His grip was soft - gentle - like he was almost afraid to touch her. Sabrina didn’t understand why it felt like lightning had worked its way under her skin. 

A flutter of something warm and sweet like honey worked through her chest when he moved again, his head coming to rest beside hers. 

“First, you find the Big Dipper,” he whispered as he guided her finger across the faux-sky. She tried not to focus on the way his breath tickled the air around her ear. “Then you find Merak and Dubhe.” He followed down the big dipper until her finger was just above the corner of the ‘bowl’. “Then, you move up and - there.” 

Nick stopped her finger to hover just over Polaris. 

“Oh,” Sabrina breathed. “That’s the end of the Little Dipper.”

“It is,” Nick confirmed. His grip fell from her wrist. The spot fell cold.

She noticed that he didn’t move any further. He remained in the same position, shoulder to shoulder with his head near hers. 

“If you follow that star, you’re going North,” Nick explained. “In case you ever get lost.” 

She shifted her head to face him, only to find him already looking at her. The soft blue hues feathered along his face, accentuating the cut of his jaw, the slope of his nose, his dark eyes as they gazed back at her - soft and steeped with something vulnerable. Her fingers pleaded with her mind, yearning to slide over his jaw and into his hair where she knew she would find his curls soft as silk.

Sabrina held tighter to her clipboard, not trusting her hands.

“Nick,” she breathed.

His response was barely audible. “Hm?”

“We really should go.”

*

_n o w_

Sabrina crossed her arms over the counter. The café was closed. The sign was flipped, the floors were mopped, and the machines were shut off for the evening. Hilda’s kitchen was scrubbed down until the stainless steel glinted and glimmered.

“You don’t have to do that,” she insisted, watching as Ambrose flicked through various screens on his phone, searching. “I can walk home.”

“You most certainly will not,” he explained. “It’s dark out.”

“I’ve walked home alone in the dark before,” Sabrina defended. “And we’re in Greendale. No one will pick me up off the side of the road.” And if they did, she’d surely put up enough of a fight that they would speed right off. 

“It’s not a kidnapping I’m concerned about. No offense, cousin, but they’d return you within an hour of having you in their back seat,” Ambrose replied. He didn’t sound like he was joking, which offended her slightly. Zelda had once said the same thing, too, when Sabrina threw a tantrum after being left alone in a grocery store aisle for a few minutes as a kid. “I’m sure you remember the streets here aren’t all that well lit. The last thing I need is to worry about you getting hit by a car.”

Sabrina sighed, dropped her forehead to the cool countertop, and decided to give up. She supposed that was the curse of being the youngest in the family. The others would always worry about her. Hilda had called her nearly every night that she had been away for school just to make sure she was home safe, all because she’d watched one too many true crime documentaries involving kidnapped or murdered young women.

Ambrose settled on Prudence’s number and then pressed the phone to his ear.

Zelda had phoned the café just a few minutes earlier, damning just about everyone and everything. Her tire had given out on the freeway, and Ambrose, being the cherished nephew, had been tasked with picking her up. 

Sabrina wasn’t particularly up for the ride and had decided to stick back and find her own way home. Marge was currently in the shop getting a face-lift and probably a whole lot of other work. Walking home hadn’t seemed like a big deal to her, but it had to Ambrose.

He had ultimately made the decision to ring Prudence and ask her to take Sabrina home, since she was apparently in the area anyway.

While Sabrina would’ve rather walked, she had decided that she was much too tired to argue.

“Hey, favorite girlfriend,” Ambrose teased into the phone, making Sabrina roll her eyes and pretend to gag. “Listen, I need a favor…”

As Ambrose droned on into the phone, Sabrina let her mind wander.

It had been a few days since her run in with Nicholas Scratch. 

She had deemed the bookstore now entirely unapproachable. 

Things had been running rather smoothly since then. She would catch herself looking out of the café windows during the slow periods when business wasn’t really kicking. He’d duck in and out of Cassius’ every once in awhile, but that was the closest she got to seeing him again. 

Melvin, on the other hand, had stopped by nearly every day to grab a couple of coffees on his way to the bookstore, which meant Nick was likely trying to avoid her just as much. That, or he liked to have other people run his errands. Either way, she felt blessed that he chose to stay out of the café.

 _Perfect_ , she thought, _you stay on your side of the street and I’ll stay on mine, buddy_.

Sabrina found herself glaring at the bookstore even now as Melvin’s head of brown hair bobbed about inside. Nick was apparently off for the day - not that she had cared enough to notice. She _absolutely_ did not care.

“She’ll be here in a few minutes,” Ambrose said as he stuck his phone into his back pocket. “I’m going to head out now, before Auntie Z propels herself back to the mortuary on sheer rage.”

“I guess she’ll have a word or two with Mayor Blackwood about the state of the roads bright and early Monday morning,” Sabrina drawled. 

“I suppose we’ll know if we find a kitchen knife missing,” Ambrose returned. “I’ll see you at home, cous.”

Sabrina gave a lazy wave. “See you.”

He dug his keys out and left a couple of seconds later. She sat in the café until the headlights of Prudence’s car appeared outside. After inhaling deeply, she made her way out. With her and Prudence on “just-okay” terms, she supposed it would make for one rather silent ride home. She didn’t mind that.

As she approached, she took notice of a pair of men’s Chelsea boots hanging out of the backseat window. 

“Are you aware that there is a man sprawled out in your backseat?” Sabrina asked as she opened the door and hauled herself into the passenger seat of Prudence’s rather intimidating Range Rover, all while questioning the sort of illicit ride-sharing services she maybe ran in her free time.

Or maybe Prudence had lived up to her word and finally killed a man.

“Nothing gets past you, Sabrina Spellman,” Prudence muttered in the usual snarky tone that she seemed to only reserve for her. “Strap in, because I may very well drive us into Sweetwater should this night get any worse for me.”

Sabrina buckled in without a second thought. Dying was not on her list of things to accomplish on her first Friday evening back in Greendale. 

“And you,” Prudence said, a little harsher this time, as she glared into the backseat. “Sit up and put your seat-belt on. And try not to talk or even breathe.”

Sabrina tried not to look into the back of the car as the strange man grumbled, sat up, and then proceeded to fumble with the seat-belt. This was a very odd scenario to be in. She cursed Ambrose silently.

“Hi S’brina,” the man said and her breath hitched in her throat.

She twisted in her seat to find Nicholas Scratch biting his lower lip in concentration and staring with a furrowed brow at the seat-belt as though it were some sort of foreign puzzle. Sabrina immediately noticed the prominent scent of alcohol as it pervaded the air in the car. 

She would’ve dove out of the car had Prudence not pulled away already.

“Is he drunk?” Sabrina asked instead, trying to appear unfazed, though she was certain she appeared at least a bit taken aback.

“Your powers of perception are strong tonight,” Prudence droned sarcastically. “Do you think I would taxi my incoherent brother around for any other reason? God knows he wouldn’t sit in the backseat of a vehicle if he were sober.”

Prudence’s eyes flickered to the rear view mirror momentarily, as though checking on Nick. He’d somehow managed to get himself situated and had his attention stolen by his phone. Sabrina felt bad for whoever was on the other end of his drunk text.

Sabrina settled into the seat, casting her eyes out of the window as silence settled over the car. Greendale’s main street was quiet, spotted with groups of people at the local hot-spots - namely the movie theater and other late night establishments. The trees and lamp posts lining the street were laced with twinkly-lights, the sort that most towns only put up for the holidays, but Greendale kept up the entire year.

“Thanks for the ride, Pru,” Nick slurred from directly behind her. “You’re _so_ kind. That’s why you’re my favorite sister.”

“Call me kind again and I’ll slit your throat,” Prudence shot back immediately. “I’m only doing this because you would've undoubtedly wandered into traffic in your current state. Now do me a favor and stop talking or I’ll drop you off with Dorcas and you know how she likes to pick on you when you’re drunk.”

“Dorcas is mean,” Nick agreed with a firm head nod. Then he snorted. “She’s a real Dorc- _ass._ ” 

Prudence just sighed as though this was a usual occurrence. Sabrina felt a little bit of pity toward her. Here she was, chauffeuring her drunk brother around while he cracked awful puns in the backseat. 

What an odd bunch, she thought as she considered their dynamic.

While her eyes flickered over Prudence’s dimly lit silhouette in the driver’s side, it occurred to her that she had little to no knowledge of their family. All she knew, all anyone ever really knew, was that the four of them - Nicholas, Prudence, Agatha, and Dorcas - were related through adoption. For as long as Sabrina had known them, they stuck together, the four of them like caramel to teeth.

At one point, she thought she had been relatively close to Nick, but now, years after she’d had any sort of relationship - friend or otherwise - with him, she realized just how little she actually knew about him. 

Not that Sabrina would’ve been the sort to judge anyone for their not-so-ordinary family setup. She, herself, had been raised with two aunts for parents and a cousin in place of a sibling and she liked to think she’d turned out just fine. Zelda and Hilda had done well covering for the situations that would require a mother’s touch. And the times she needed a dad, they did their best to fill in that role, too. 

She startled from her thoughts when Prudence took a sharp turn into a gas station lot. In the back, Nick gave a quiet, disgruntled yelp as his head collided with the window. Maybe she would have laughed if she wasn’t trying to not appear rude.

Prudence pulled up to a nearby pump and slipped out of the car, turning just long enough to glare at Nick. “Move and you die,” she told him. The door slammed shut a couple of seconds later, leaving them in silence.

Sabrina sighed and settled her head back against the rest, letting her eyes shut for a moment. Maybe, by a stroke of magic, she would open her eyes and find herself at the mortuary with her sanity in check. She prayed to whatever deity was out there that Nick wouldn’t try to talk to her. 

Her prayers went unanswered.

“Why are you back?” Nick asked.

“None of your business,” Sabrina returned and kept her eyes drawn forward. She was generally an empath and she didn’t want to be deterred from her goal by looking at him in his pitifully unhinged state. It didn’t feel right, anyway. After essentially not knowing him for years, interacting with him when he was drunk felt almost too personal.

“You acted like you didn’t know me,” he continued, failing to pick up on the social cues she was blatantly displaying in his inebriated state. “Why?”

Something boiled over in her, something that made her sit up in her seat and turn so that she could face him. When her eyes caught sight of him, sprawled back against the seat, hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket, hair a mess of curls, she froze in place.

The neon light that poured off the gas station sign case a blue haze over his silhouette, cutting across the features of his face the way a sharpened knife sliced through paper. For a brief moment, she realized Nicholas Scratch didn’t look like the big bad wolf she had painted him out to be. He didn’t look like the boy who left girls standing out in front of the Paramount in their favorite dresses. 

He looked - _sad_. Both physically and emotionally.

“Why do you think, Nicholas?” she asked with noticeable bite.

Nick was quiet, staring at her with a look she couldn’t quite read. She stared back, tried to not seem bothered by the sudden rush of anxiety that flooded her.

Her eyes found his in the dimly lit interior of the car, through the cold blue light. In that moment, he looked sober. Vulnerable, even. A sense of nostalgia blossomed within her. She had been here before, she swore it. Perhaps, under a different context, in a different setting, but with him looking at her in the same manner.

“You know, I never got over you,” he finally said. 

Sabrina inhaled a sharp breath that burned like fire through her lungs.

That made her angry.

She wanted to ask him what he meant. If he had never gotten over her, then why did he leave her waiting for him? She waited for hours. Hours! _It had rained, you know. I walked back in it and I didn’t even feel it_ , she wanted to say. Or, _you could’ve called, you fucking moron. Why did you let me think you were even coming?_

“Nick-”

“Fuck,” he interrupted and screwed his eyes shut as he fumbled simultaneously with his seat-belt and the door. The light in the car came on, filling not only the vehicle but Sabrina with sudden and abrupt clarity as she watched Nick hunch over a nearby bush and proceed to vomit up the contents of his alcohol-rotted stomach.

She winced and looked away. 

It was pointless. Nick would not give her answers because he did not have any, and she had been stupid to think that he could offer her any clarity in his current state. He probably didn’t even know his own name right now.

From the corner of her eye she caught sight of a red pick-up truck pulling into the lot.

Her body immediately relaxed from its rigid state.

 _Some_ deity was looking out for her.

Sabrina unhooked her seat-belt and scrambled out of the car.

“Harvey!” she shouted. He looked up as he exited his truck, donning an almost instant smile at the sight of her. “Prudence, I’m going to catch a ride with Harvey. Thanks anyway!”

Prudence, who was simultaneously operating the gas pump and giving Nick a look of disgust just shrugged. Sabrina took that as a good enough good-bye and raced toward Harvey.

“Hey, ‘Brina,” he greeted with ease.

“Please say you aren’t doing anything important and can give me a ride home?” she nearly begged. “I can’t go back into that car, I’ll lose my mind.”

“Of course, you know I’m here if you need me.” Harvey looked up and over the distance of the small lot to survey the situation as he undid the gas cap on his truck. “But I must ask: is that Nick Scratch vomiting in a bush?”

Sabrina was practically clawing at the passenger side door, fighting to get in. “Yeah, typical Friday night for him, I guess.”

Harvey just shrugged and dropped his eyes down to his own business. “He’s always been a character.” His eyes flickered over Sabrina’s as he dug his wallet out from his back pocket. “I never got the whole ‘jock-slash-nerd’ combo he had going on.”

“Some people are multi-faceted,” Sabrina shot back before she could stop herself. She quickly re-evaluated her stance and corrected herself before Harvey asked why she was defending Nick. She hadn’t done that in a long time. “I mean, I guess the brains were wasted. He turned out to be an asshole just like the rest of them.” The rest being the remainder of the acclaimed Baxter High football team.

Harvey didn’t seem to notice as he slipped his card into the gas pump reader. “Didn’t he deck Billy Marlin in the face senior year?” he asked. “Like - messed up his nose to the point of never going back?”

Sabrina cringed. She remembered that ordeal and how it had caused a vast shift in Nick’s reputation - not just with her but the entire school. Billy Marlin had not only been the ‘star player’, but the coach’s son and Baxter High’s golden child - not that she wholly agreed with any of that. “Yeah,” she simply said. “That’s Nick. Genius turned delinquent.”

Harvey whistled low. “I guess it’s good you never got involved with him, right?” he calculated, referring to her potential date. As one of her best friends, Harvey had been informed of it, too. “I mean, a guy like that - willing to resort to violence - is never the best to get caught up with.”

Sabrina shut the door as Harvey finished up and climbed into his own seat. She pressed her cheek to the window, welcoming the coolness of the glass as she watched Prudence walk back to her car with a newly purchased bottle of water, an added spice to her step, lips moving at an alarming rate as she likely told off Nick. She shoved the bottle into his hands as he sluggishly swung open the car door again, pausing briefly to glance around, likely in search of _her_.

He wouldn’t find her.

She caught the brief look of disappointment before he disappeared into the car.

“Yeah,” Sabrina repeated as she drifted back into her own life. It had been an argument she had used against her own heart back then. Nick’s assault on Billy had come just days after their missed date. Nick had snapped, become violent, despite never displaying any warning signs. She had tried to tell herself that the halt in their relationship had been a blessing. What if one day he had raised a hand to her?

Yet, she could never drown out the little voice in her head that told her there had to be more to the story than what plagued the halls at school, that Nick hadn’t just gone haywire like people had claimed. 

He had certainly been gentle enough with her, especially so when--

“I was going to stop at Cee’s for a late-night burger. Want to join?” Harvey interrupted.

“Sure,” she agreed, dropping her previous line of thought. “I could use a burger.”

“Extra slice of cheese, no pickles, and a mint-chocolate shake,” Harvey read off.

Sabrina turned to grin at him. “You never forgot.”

Harvey gave her a classic dopey smile of his own, tinged around the edges with the usual warmth she had found herself missing in the city friends she’d made during college. There was something about the people of Greendale that could not be replicated elsewhere, especially not her people. “Never,” he declared and revved up the engine.

She shot Ambrose a simple text to let him know she was out with Harvey and then tucked her phone away. 

The night quickly shifted into a nice catch-up session with him over a couple of burgers and shakes. They savored their time together, staying in their booth until Cee’s closed for the evening. Afterward, he drove her mortuary, the two of them reminiscing and sharing stories the entire way there.

Harvey’s truck rattled as it left down the Spellman drive-way for the night, leaving her in silence a few moments later. She trudged up the remainder of the dirt path, stopping just briefly before the porch steps.

Above her, the Greendale sky was black as could be, dotted abundantly with little sparkling stars. This far out, there wasn’t much artificial light - only the lights lining the Spellman porch and the moon itself. It was spooky to many, but to her it was home, and it made for a nice sight above.

Mid-step with her hand on the railing, she combed the sky until she found it.

The North Star.

Sabrina dropped her eyes and sighed, giving her head a little shake as she made her way up the rest of the steps.

The North Star only worked if people wanted to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We learn a little itty bit more about Nick this chapter - like that he completely busted up Billy. But why? 
> 
> Also, one of my favorite relationships in this fic is the one between the Weird Sisters, Nick, and their parental figure - which I can't WAIT for you guys to meet! 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought in the comments, and here's to Part 3, which will be out Friday - woohoo!!
> 
> Thanks, as always <3


	4. i was red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for the long delay on this chapter - a bitch was getting over Part 3 (the bitch was me) and didn't want to edit.

*

_n o w_

Nick woke up drowning - coughing, sputtering, and flailing.

His eyes shot open, desperately searching for the source of his unease. At the very center of his vision was Prudence, sitting at the edge of his bed and peering down at him. She held an empty drinking glass that was tipped in his direction. Nick could only assume he was wearing its contents.

“What the hell is your problem?” he croaked. His throat was dry and not a single drop of water from the frenzy she’d launched at him had actually made it into his mouth.

“So you are alive,” Prudence said, ignoring his question. 

“Hardly,” Nick groaned as he made to sit up. His bones felt like jelly and every muscle in his body ached. The throbbing in his head made him want to roll back over but he owed it to himself to figure out where he was and how he had become the victim of Prudence’s vicious attack.

Through squinted eyes, Nick looked around. He was in his bedroom, on top of his bed covers, and only half undressed. His shirt laid thrown onto the floor near the door, and though his belt buckle appeared somewhat undone, his pants were still on. As were his shoes. He assumed he’d likely given up on undressing himself at some point and gone straight for bed.

That could only mean he’d gotten hammered the night before. 

He looked back at Prudence with mild irritation.

“How did you get into my apartment?” he asked. He’d only been in Greendale for a couple of months, give or take a few days, and he didn’t remember giving her a key. The only other person who had one was--

“Amalia,” Prudence answered. “She gave me her key. She wanted me to come check on you to make sure you hadn’t died of alcohol poisoning.” 

“Great,” Nick exhaled as he dropped back onto his bed, shutting his eyes at the pounding sensation that rattled through his head. “You told her.”

“Of course I did. You wasted my time last night and now you’ll have to answer to a higher power.” 

From within her handbag, she withdrew a bottle of some over-the-counter pain medication that he didn’t have a chance to catch before it hit him square in the face. He only grumbled in response. 

“For that raging headache I’m certain you have,” she explained.

“Can I at least have a glass of water?”

“I had one for you, but you wouldn’t wake up so I had to make use of it,” Prudence replied with a shrug. 

Nick pressed the bottle of pills against his forehead and groaned. He understood that his current predicament was entirely his fault, but he didn’t think she had to be so cruel about it.

“You’re a real fucking ray of sunshine, Pru. Anyone ever told you that?”

Prudence stood to give him a _real_ ray of sunshine and swung aside the dark curtains on his windows, unleashing upon him the full force of Greendale’s morning sun. Nick all but shouted as he rolled away from it like some sort of incoherent vampire.

He hit the floor beside the bed with a loud thud and stayed there.

“You don’t remember anything, do you?” Prudence questioned. 

In the midst of his wallowing on the carpet, he began to backtrack through his evening. It had started with a glass of some pricey bourbon at Dorian’s. Soon it was two. Then, three. And at some point, Nick had lost track of both time and the number of consumed beverages. He assumed Dorian had gone into his wallet at some point to gather his extensive dues before handing him off to Prudence. He had made it clear to Nick before that he was not above robbing the body of a comatose man if necessary.

Instead of admitting that that was the point at which his memories had halted, Nick gave a short moan into the floor.

“You were an embarrassment, as usual,” Prudence explained. Nick nodded along like he understood. This was often how her lectures began. “And you really made a show of yourself in front of Sabrina.”

His eyes shot wide open at the mention of her. 

In the following seconds, Nick had three very profound thoughts that went something like:

Fuck. 

_Fuck_. 

**FUCK** **_._ **

He sat up, peering his head over the edge of his bed to look at Prudence, who now sat on the sill of his window like a goddess of vengeance. She wore a clever smile. “And um, I take it that went well,” Nick said timidly, afraid of his fate.

“Wrong, obviously,” she replied. “Whatever you said to her had her running straight into the arms of one Harvey Kinkle.”

Nick sighed and raked a hand over his face. “That sounds about right.”

“Or,” Prudence touched her chin in thought. Nick worried with every fiber of his being that she was about to hit him with her finishing attack and then leave him there to die. “It could’ve been the vomit that sent her flying in the opposite direction.” She paused to nod. “Yes, it was likely that.”

“The what now?” Nick asked almost instantly. Surely, it hadn’t been _him_ that had puked. He didn’t get sick when he drank, and he had gotten drunk enough to prove that in numbers. Still, he inwardly cringed at the thought of spilling his stomach in front of Sabrina Spellman. That certainly would not have earned him any points.

Oh no, had he thrown up _on her?_

Nick thought his brain might short-circuit.

“The vomit,” she repeated. “Which you spewed into a bush only mere feet from me. Honestly, Nick.” She grabbed her handbag and stood. “Sabrina practically hijacked his truck and drove herself home.”

Nick shrugged. “Sabrina’s always run to him,” he said, hoping to sound unbothered by that. It was but an observation. Nothing more. “Nothing has changed.” 

Prudence sighed. Nick looked up at her. Through his bleary vision, he thought she looked somewhat sincere. He rubbed his eyes to clear the lingering sleep deliria. The girl he knew, the girl he’d grown up with attached to his hip, was not sincere - she was sharp and merciless and always right.

“Do you remember,” Prudence began, “during senior year when she slipped on the track because she insisted on running right after it rained? She messed up her ankle, didn’t she, but that’s not the point...”

Nick picked at the fabric of his sheets and didn’t say anything.

“She asked for you,” his sister finished. Then she clarified, “ _not_ Harvey Kinkle.”

She had. And he had come sprinting. All because someone had said ‘Sabrina’s hurt’ and he had assumed the worst. When he found her seated on the track, cradling her bruised ankle and holding back tears, he’d dropped to her side and comforted her the only way he knew how - flirt her pain away until she smiled and showed him her fearless side once more.

Nick thought about how soon after, in that same year, things had gone to ruin. 

He didn’t have much time to continue pondering, in-depth, the complexities of his relationship - or lack thereof - with Sabrina before his phone, which sat on the nightstand, began to buzz and clank around loudly.

He glanced quickly at the screen, read the name, and then panicked, all thoughts of Sabrina at the back of his mind for now. “I’ll die. That’s the only way out of this,” he decided.

“I would prefer it,” Prudence stated. “Then I would have a chance at being the favorite child.”

He stood and grabbed his phone and the bottle of pain medication just as Prudence waltzed out of the room. In the nearby bathroom, he snuck a pill between his lips and ducked his face directly under the faucet for a gulp of water. Then, after a deep exhale, he pressed the phone to his ear and hoped he didn’t sound too hungover.

“Hey, ‘Mal.” 

*

Sabrina tapped the little bell near the register of the automotive repair shop a little too excitedly, bouncing on her feet as she did. She looked up with a bright smile as someone rounded the corner.

“Tommy!” she squeaked.

The eldest Kinkle brother donned a large smile as he wiped away at the grease on his hands. “Hey, kid. Long time no see. You doing okay?”

“You know, you’re only a few years older than me,” Sabrina said at the use of the word ‘kid’. Tommy called both Harvey and her that, though Harvey was more often than not dubbed ‘nerd’ - affectionately, of course. “And fantastic. I’ll be even better once I get my car back, though.”

Tommy chuckled. “Mm, about that…” he started. “You thought about, I don’t know, maybe scrapping it and starting over?” He searched through a cabinet of keys until he found hers and then motioned with his head for Sabrina to follow him outback. 

“She’s runs, doesn’t she?” Sabrina asked as they made their way out and into the lot of the shop where he’d carefully parked Marge. Tommy nodded. “And she - technically - passes all the safety requirements, right?” 

Tommy gave another nod. “With the newly installed passenger side mirror? Technically, yes. She’s just scraping by being street legal.”

“Then, she’s fine.”

He stopped before Marge and tossed Sabrina the keys. “No offense, kid, but the nicest thing on her are her tires, being that we’ve just replaced them. Outside of that, I’m afraid she’s just a scrap of metal.”

“But she’s my scrap of metal,” Sabrina pushed. “And I’m not looking to go anywhere far with her. Just around town. I’ll retire her once I move onto bigger and better things.”

“Well,” Tommy started. “If you decide you need something a little nicer, I’m willing to loan you one of our rentals - free of charge - while you’re in town.”

“That’s nice of you, Tommy,” Sabrina replied politely. “I’ll consider it. But for now, I think I’m just fine.”

After a quick look over, she and Tommy returned inside where she made her payment and signed off on the receipt. She chatted a little, asked him how things were now that he was married and expecting a baby. A girl, he confirmed. They would name her after his and Harvey’s mother.

He extended an invite to dinner with the Kinkle family at his father’s home. Sabrina left it open-ended, but she knew she would not find herself at their dinner table anytime soon. Their father was hard to get along with and Sabrina had never liked him. Not with the way he had always treated Harvey.

Soon after, she was on her way, bubbling with nostalgia as she stepped down on the gas pedal. The windows only rolled down partially, and the sound from the old radio was fuzzy as best, but she didn’t mind. She felt right at home.

With the crisp Greendale breeze fluttering through the gap in the windows, Sabrina rolled down the tree-lined roads, the looming dogwoods casting a rosy hue over her windshield.

It was late morning and she was on her way to the café. Tommy Kinkle’s auto-shop was quite a bit away, giving her just enough time to enjoy a peaceful ride over in her newly recovered car. She hummed along to the song on the radio, something kitschy and pop, and let her mind wander.

The situation in Prudence’s car the previous night was one that she wished to forget entirely. Nick had been drunk and deluded and nowhere near his right mind. And even if he had been, he had always been a charmer, someone who could easily get his way by batting his lashes and saying a few smooth words. There was no solidity behind his words - she had already learned that the hard way.

Sabrina swung Marge into an open spot in front of the café. She grabbed her bag out of the passenger side seat and her keys from the ignition before trotting up to the entrance. Her shift today was short and she wondered what she would do afterward. Maybe she would call Theo and see if he wanted to meet up for dinner.

Inside, the café wasn’t busy, but the sound of Ambrose’s boisterous laughter rang through the small space, bouncing off the walls. When she glanced toward the counter, she saw him leaning against it, apron donned, a smile on his face, and his attention stolen by an ebony-haired customer who stood on the opposite side. 

Nick. All barely-average-height, dark, and handsome.

And dumb, Sabrina added quickly. Very dumb. Not at all the sort of boy she liked. 

She shot Ambrose a grumpy look when he noticed her as if to ask: how dare you consort with the enemy?

“Cousin!” Ambrose nearly shouted, raising his hand to wave at her. When Nick turned his head in her direction, Sabrina caught the second his grin fell. She thought he looked a little embarrassed. 

“Ambrose,” Sabrina greeted as she made her way behind the counter. She smiled politely at the customers that were occupying the seated area on her way. “I see you’re slacking off already.”

“Not slacking off,” Ambrose said with a smirk. “Just conversing with customers. It’s important to keep good relations with the people that fuel our business.” 

Sabrina hid her eye-roll behind the guise of retrieving her apron from a nearby hook. Then, she slipped off into the back to find her aunt, settle herself in, and start her shift. When she returned, Nick was still there, talking to Ambrose while he worked to craft a couple of drinks for a group of customers. 

His eyes followed her in an almost calculating sort of way that nearly drew a deep shiver from her. She wondered if he remembered what he’d said last night, or that he’d thrown up just a few feet away from her, and was perhaps trying to gauge her reaction.

She wandered over, keeping a careful distance away from the pair as she reached for one of the cups and read off the order. An Americano. No sugar, no cream - just espresso and hot water. Sabrina inwardly scoffed. That was such a vanilla, basic, baby-boomer drink. It was the sort of drink people with coffee superiority syndrome - the belief that coffee diluted with any sort of sweetener or creamer wasn’t actually coffee - ordered. 

She prepared the drink and then turned the cup around to read off the name, ready to greet the proud owner of the lamest drink in town, when she stopped and deadpanned.

_Of course,_ it had to be him. Why wouldn’t it be?

She met Nick’s eyes with a glare and shoved the drink in his direction. “Here,” she proclaimed in greeting, all thoughts of good customer service out the window. For good measure, she added, “enjoy your boring coffee.”

Nick took the drink from her cautiously, careful not to brush against her. He looked ready to say something, but all that came out was a short, “thanks.”

Sabrina turned on her heel to walk away.

“Spellman?” Nick called after her, and then there was a weird sort of pause as he realized what he’d said. ‘Spellman’ had always been a friendly, almost affectionate, term for her. 

Sabrina turned to look at him again, a little taken aback. She wasn’t prepared for that. 

Nick cleared his throat. “Listen--um, sorry about last night." There was a pause. Sabrina couldn't help but panic internally. He remembered. Oh god, now he was going to talk about it. "I mean, about puking in front of you -- Prudence told me about it,” he clarified. 

“Okay,” was all she said in return, shoulders relaxing just a touch.

Nick fidgeted slightly with the coffee cup. “I’m -- I don't get drunk like that all the time,” he continued, as though he had to justify it. She wished he would just leave. "Like -- just _sometimes_. And I don't usually get sick, either."

“I don’t care, Nicholas. I really don't.” Sabrina replied. The vomit, while gross, hadn’t been what had made her uncomfortable. It had been what he’d said right before it, which clearly, he didn’t remember. So all was good - or all would be good if he just left.

Nick pursed his lips just slightly. He clearly hadn’t expected her to be so brash. 

“...Is that all?” she asked a couple of seconds later, a little more hesitant this time. Please say yes, she pleaded internally. _And please never call me ‘Spellman’ again._

He nodded slowly.

“Okay, then. I’ve got other customers to take care of, so...” 

“I’ll see you around,” Nick said hesitantly.

“I hope not,” Sabrina shot back. 

He parted his lips to say something, then stopped, gave a slight shake of the head, a small sigh, and finally turned to leave. 

“That went well,” Ambrose said, coming up beside her.

“What an asshole,” Sabrina declared, hands on her hips as she watched Nick’s retreating form through narrowed eyes.

Ambrose nodded. “ _Major_ asshole. I mean, he even left a seven-dollar tip on a three dollar order. What a piece of crap.”

Sabrina glared at him, too. “We don’t need his hand-outs, Ambrose. God, and pick your jaw up off the floor - it’s seriously disturbing that you’re looking at your girlfriend’s brother that way.” She smacked him over the shoulder with a cleaning cloth. He yelped. 

“I don’t think it’s me you should be worried about,” Ambrose said.

Behind them, the double doors leading to the kitchen swung open and Hilda came careening out with a paper bag, headed for Nick. She flagged him down by the door and held the bag out for him to take. Over the noise, Sabrina heard her say, “for you and your mum,” before she sent him on his way. Nick was, of course, charming and cordial, and it made her dislike him even more.

“Really?” Sabrina asked as Hilda came trotting back to her post, yellow apron fluttering.

“Cherry danishes,” Hilda clarified, a bit out of breath, as she thumbed in the direction where Nick had just been standing. “They’re his favorite. I had a fresh batch going and I thought he might like some.” She disappeared back into the kitchen before either of them could say anything.

Sabrina stood, flabbergasted. “ _Really?_ ” she repeated and looked to Ambrose. He shrugged and pretended to be busy wiping down an already very clean counter in hopes of hiding his smile. “Is this really happening?”

“Nick’s been a regular customer since his return,” he offered. “And Hilda’s taken a liking to him. She happens to think he’s a well-refined young man--”

“ _Refined?_ ” Sabrina asked in disbelief. Yeah, someone like Nick _really_ set the bar high. “My God, invite him over for dinner, why don’t you? Since the three of you are just _such good friends_ or whatever.”

“Well, she’s tried,” Ambrose said. “She’s also mentioned you’re single at least twenty times since she got the memo you were coming home. I think she’s finally gotten over Harvey.” 

Sabrina wanted to slam her head into the exposed brick along the back wall of the café. Of all the men her aunt could have attempted to bag for her, it had to be that one.

“Have you ever told the aunties?” Ambrose questioned a few seconds later. “About your potential fling with Nicholas and the subsequent results?”

“Absolutely not,” Sabrina retorted. “Why would I have? So Aunt Zelda could’ve gone for the rifle I know she keeps under her bed?”

Her cousin blinked. “While I am quite aware of Aunt Z’s overwhelming desire to protect her family, I also fail to see why she would go after a boy who stood her teenage niece up for a date.” Then he paused and narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious. “Wait a minute - what did you mean that night when you said Nick ‘robbed’ you?”

Sabrina pretended to be busy with tidying up the espresso station. “I don’t remember. I was probably just being dramatic,” she lied.

Just as Ambrose opened his mouth to speak, someone stepped up to the counter, effectively ending their conversation.

*

_t h e n_

Sabrina Spellman could fly.

At least, that was what she thought as she darted over the slick track behind Baxter High. It was her lunch hour and she was spending it running, too nervous to eat a full meal with the looming threat of a Calculus test next period. Her teacher was ruthless and Sabrina hated math. It was too boring, too linear. She liked to argue her point, and she couldn’t do that with numbers.

The rain had let up. The downpour was now a light sprinkling, and the dusting of the tiny droplets soothed her without soaking her. 

She thought for a brief second that perhaps, running over a wet track was not the safest bet, but at the same time, Sabrina was never one to consider safety first. 

The earbud in her left ear fell out just as she rounded the curve. Without thinking twice, she reached for it.

And then, within the same second, she was sliding and falling. Her ankle twisted painfully as she landed against the hard surface. She sucked in a breath, bit her lip, and screwed her eyes shut as the initial wave of pain washed over her.

It didn’t stop. Stars blossomed behind her eyelids as she clenched her teeth tightly.

“Sabrina!” 

She squinted through one eye. The image of Elspeth running toward her blurred into view. Sabrina remembered that she often liked to sit outside and study. Luckily for her, Elspeth had probably seen her crash. 

Sabrina held up a shaky hand. “I’m fine,” she assured. The pain worsened, flooding her ankle and shooting up her leg when she attempted to stand.

“Don’t get up,” Elspeth warned, ushering her to remain seated. Sabrina didn’t fight her. She was still dazed and trying to make sense of what had happened exactly. One minute she was breezing through the air, the next she was face to face with the track. “You hit the ground pretty hard. I heard you all the way from the bleachers.” She paused. “What hurts?”

“My ankle,” Sabrina replied, eyes stinging. 

“Hang on,” Elspeth said and stood. “Let me get someone. Stay here, I’ll find the nurse.”

It hurt to stand, and she knew she couldn’t realistically limp herself through the field and back into the building by herself. Sabrina thought about calling Roz, but she knew her friend was in class at the moment and would likely not answer her phone. Theo, too. And Harvey, well, he was never one to remain calm when she was hurt.

“Nick,” Sabrina said before she could stop herself. Her bottom lip trembled slightly as she pressed her palm over her pained ankle, but she didn’t cry. It would take a lot more than a hurt ankle to make her shed tears. 

Elspeth nodded quickly. “Do you know where he is?”

“The football field,” Sabrina replied. He had lunch the same period as her and he usually spent it on the field eating with his sisters or tossing the ball back and forth with a few of the football guys, even though Sabrina knew he would rather be reading.

“Got it,” Elspeth confirmed with a nod. “I’ll be right back.”

It felt like forever before she returned. While waiting, Sabrina examined her ankle the best she could without taking off her shoe. It was red and already swollen. She let out a shaky sigh. 

“Hey, Spellman. How’d you get down there?” 

Sabrina looked up, startled by his sudden appearance despite that she’d been expecting him. His dark curls, a striking contrast against the pale gray clouds above them, were disorderly. She wondered if he’d rushed over. The thought made her stomach flutter. As though reading her mind, Nick raked a hand through his hair to settle it.

“I often enjoy a nice sit on the wet track,” Sabrina replied sarcastically. 

Nick chuckled and bent down on his knee in front of her. Like a knight in shining armor, she considered foolishly. She knew Nick was nothing of the sort, but she liked to think that maybe he was different with her. Almost as if to prove her point, Nick delicately swept his fingers over her ankle. His touch was light, careful. She didn’t think he had it in him.

“You didn’t have to fall to get my attention,” he joked. Then he winked at her and added, “I’ve already noticed you.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes in an attempt to hide the blush she felt blossoming along her cheeks. He could find any excuse to flirt with anyone, but particularly her, Sabrina noticed. She didn’t hate it all that much, despite the fact that she knew it could never be with just her. For as long as she had known him, Nick never gave his heart to people, not in the way they wanted, at least.

“I’m going to help you up, but hang on to me and keep your weight off of your ankle, okay? Then we can get you to the nurse.”

Sabrina nodded. He smiled at her.

His arm slid around her. Instinctively, her’s slid around his neck. The sinews along his shoulder moved under his shirt as he brought her to her feet. She tried not to notice and hated it when she failed. 

She was careful not to step down on her bad foot as she stood. They made it a couple of steps with him guiding her before he stopped and looked at her over. He wore a conflicted expression, a little furrow in his dark brows. 

“This might be easier if…” Nick trailed off briefly, pausing to reconsider his wording. “Do you mind if I pick you up?”

Sabrina thought it over for a second. It would take her a while to get to the nurse’s office if she were to continue limping at his side, and she thought Nick probably had things to get back to, like pretending that he enjoyed tossing a ball back and forth with Bonehead-Billy over getting lost in whatever text he had settled on that week. She didn’t want to keep him. 

“You’d better not drop me, Scratch,” she teased.

He slipped an arm around her shoulders and the other under her knee. A little squeak fell from her lips as he lifted her off her feet, despite seeing it coming. Nick gave her a crooked little smirk. “I’d never,” he promised. Sabrina believed him, even if for a fleeting moment.

He didn’t seem at all physically bothered by her, and he carried her with ease across the field. Beyond her red shorts, her legs were bare, and he was a gentleman, careful not to touch her in any way that was inappropriate. But it didn’t stop her from fixating on the warmth of his skin against hers, or the way his hand had settled in the crook of her knee.

Sabrina let her head rest against his shoulder. He smelled faintly of leather and vetiver. 

“You didn’t ask for Harry,” Nick said suddenly, as though he’d been holding onto that sentence for a while now. Sabrina thought that maybe there was a hint of something else in his voice. It couldn’t be jealousy. How could Nick be jealous of anyone? Everybody liked him.

“Harvey,” Sabrina clarified.

“That’s what I said.” 

She smiled at his smugness.

“Sometimes, I’m more trouble than Harvey can handle,” Sabrina explained delicately. How else could she say, ‘well, Harvey might’ve panicked and called an ambulance directly to Baxter High,’ without making him sound like an oddball? Her friend had his own way of caring for people.

Nick’s voice was clear, firm, when he spoke again, but there was something gentle about it, too. “You aren’t meant to be handled, Sabrina,” he said. “In the same way that oceans aren’t meant to be bottled.”

No, she wasn’t. 

She also wasn’t meant for boys like Nick Scratch who would leave her with more pain than a twisted ankle but here she was -- flying, awaiting the concrete that would inevitably break her fall, and deciding that she wasn't scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have second-hand embarrassment and cringed while writing the awkward bits between Nick and Sabrina. It was a rough phase - her being angry, him embarrassing himself. I like Prudence in this story, though. 
> 
> There will be (1) full-blown confrontation between the two of them coming up soon folks, stay tuned. We get to find out what happened in the past that really set Sabrina off Nick - and Ambrose might already be figuring it out!
> 
> Thanks for reading, please drop a comment and let me know what you think!


	5. a distant glow, a nearby fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so promise I'll get better at updates once things slow down for me a bit! Hopefully, I'll be taking a vacation from my job soon - YAY. Also, I wanted to go back and edit this story to include a couple of the newer characters too. Don't get excited though - clayboy only gets a mention LOL.
> 
> Anyway, I've stared at this chapter long enough trying to work out the kinks. I'm finding I don't really love my writing as of lately, but I'm working on it. Thanks for being patient with me!

*

_t h e n_

  
  


She missed her calculus test. 

Nick had sat with her in the nurse's office until one of her aunts came to pick her up. He gave her an earbud and they made it through a few songs before Zelda came hustling through the door demanding an explanation and wedging herself between her and Nick. Her ankle was fine - sprained, but not broken. She was off the track for the unforeseeable future and that sucked, but she found other ways to occupy her time.

“Do you even like football?” Sabrina asked one day. It was her lunch hour and she was seated on her knees in the center of the track, her things lying around her. She took her lunch there most days - with Nick of all people. Sabrina found herself spending more time with him since her fall. He’d offered to tutor her after finding out her teacher had allowed her to reschedule her test and, against all odds, she'd passed.

She thought Nick would go back to hanging out with his sisters and the team after that. But then, in their shared theater class, he’d asked her to partner with him for their class reading of _Romeo and Juliet_ \- of course. She would read for Juliet - though he had given her the option between that or Romeo, stating that he made a great Juliet, too. Sabrina had accepted because frankly, he was hard to ignore.

He continued eating lunch with her. She wasn’t allowed to run and she enjoyed the company, even if he used the guise of their theater project as an excuse. 

Nick glanced up at her briefly from where he was laid out on his back beside her in the grass. He’d moved onto a book after they’d rehearsed their scenes a few times over. By now, she had her lines entirely memorized. She had a feeling he did too, and yet, neither of them seemed to want to admit it. Instead, he stayed. And she didn’t push him away either.

“Yeah,” Nick answered finally.

“I don’t think you do,” Sabrina replied.

Nick shrugged. “I’m good at it.”

“That’s not the same thing as liking it.”

He propped an arm under his head and looked at her, a smile present. “You just want me for yourself,” he teased.

“No,” she shot back quickly, flustered and suddenly forgetting how to hide it. She hoped he didn’t notice. “I don’t. I just think - you’re not really like Billy or his friends. You’re smart, but sometimes, I think you just hang out with them because you think you should. I don’t know how you stand it.”

“Damn, Spellman. You’re really just laying it out, huh?”

Sabrina giggled. “You should do what you like is all I’m saying.”

His eyes went back to his book, but his smile grew. “And what’s that?”

“I don’t know - read, be a know-it-all, study for fun like a weirdo--”

“Hang out with Sabrina Spellman,” Nick added on, and then a little more playfully, “take life advice from Sabrina Spellman.”

She huffed and pelted him with a handful of grass. Nick lowered the book and looked at her almost threateningly. She would’ve taken him seriously had he not looked as though he were fighting off a smile.

“Do that again and that pretty white shirt of yours is going to be covered in grass stains, Spellman.”

Slowly, Sabrina grabbed another handful of grass and tossed it. It rained over him, sticking to his hair like fresh snowfall. 

Nick tossed his book aside and the rest happened in a blur. One second she was sitting, the next he had her pinned. She couldn’t hold in her laughter as she tried to scramble away, but he overpowered her and showered her with grass in the same manner as she had him.

It wasn’t until they finally settled down that Sabrina noticed the closeness of their bodies. His grip on her had loosened, she could have rolled away with ease, but she didn’t. When she looked up at him, searching for his eyes, she found him already looking at her. Her gaze flickered to his lips, parted ever so slightly, and she found herself biting her own. 

Then, soft as a summer breeze, Sabrina asked, “are you going to kiss me?”

There was just a second of silence before he, too, spoke.

“Do you want me to?”

She responded with her lips against his.

  
  


*

_n o w_

  
  


**Theo [7:07AM]** **  
** -hey losers come to my yoga class this morning

 **Harvey [7:08AM]**  
-I can’t  
-also don’t want to  
-[IMG]

 **Theo [7:08AM]** **  
** -I meant it when i said I’d block you if you keep sending cat memes  
-they’re not even funny

 **Harvey [7:09AM]** **  
** -[IMG]  
-[IMG]

 **Theo [7:09AM]** **  
** -HARVEY crinkle  
-crumple*  
-kinkle**  
-gdi!

 **Harvey [7:10AM]** **  
** -😁

 **Roz [7:11AM]** **  
** -Do the two of you even realize what time it is for me right now?  
-We agreed not to use this group chat until at least 8 am pacific time

 **Harvey [7:12AM]** **  
** -good morning Roz 🙂

 **Theo [7:14AM]** **  
** -brina that means it’s just you and i  
-brina?  
-brina  
-brinaaaaaaa  
-banana  
-that was autocorrect

Sabrina stuck her head out from underneath the large hand-crafted quilt that was spread across her bed - a gift from Hilda - to stare at her pinging phone. Clumsily, she reached out and grabbed it, squinting at the bright screen as she attempted to read through the chain of texts in their group chat. 

Pale yellow sunlight filtered through the sheer white curtains above her bed, bathing the room in soft, warm hues. She fell back and stretched, taking a second to bask in it. Salem chirped from somewhere underneath the covers, aware of her movement. It took a whole fifteen minutes or so before she finally got up and sent Theo a reply back.

 **Sabrina [7:25AM]** **  
** Guess I have to-  
Since no one else will-

 **Theo [7:30AM]** **  
** -I welcome pity accepts  
-meet at the gym at 8:30? Class is at 8:45  
-✌

 **Sabrina [7:31AM]**  
👍❤-  
  
  


She dropped her phone onto her bed and jetted off to her bathroom. There, she went through her usual morning routine, save for showering which she decided to do as soon as she returned from the gym. 

Out in her room once more, Sabrina dug through her dresser drawer until she found her favorite black leggings and then slipped into them. Atop, she dressed in a sports bra and pulled over it a loose fitted shirt. At her vanity, she fussed with her hair, running her brush through and smoothing it down with her fingers before sliding on her usual hairband. She grabbed a pair of running shoes from her closet and headed down the stairs.

The house was mostly empty. From where she stood at the base of the stairwell, she could faintly hear Ambrose’s snoring drifting down from the attic. For a moment, she wondered why her cousin had never bothered to leave the mortuary. He certainly had enough money to live on his own. She supposed he liked being there to accompany their aunts, both of whom had never had their children of their own. Just a niece and a nephew.

The kitchen was quiet, dark, and without the sunbeam that was Hilda to breathe life into it, it sat lonesome and untouched. Sabrina pulled back the curtains to let the sun in before she poured herself a glass of water and rummaged through the fruit basket for an apple. The table where Zelda liked to take her coffee and cigarette while reading the daily paper sat empty, too. She was likely out running errands while Hilda tended to the cafe.

After tossing her apple core into the bin Hilda had reserved specifically for compost, and feeding Salem his own less-than-appetizing canned breakfast, she finally wandered out into the foyer, where she pulled on her shoes and then headed out. 

Outside, on the porch, Sabrina did some quick stretches to warm up her muscles before she plunged down the stairs, picking up a light jogging speed as she traced the pathway out. 

This morning, she’d decided for a morning run over taking Marge to the gym where she was supposed to meet Theo. Despite her schedule, Sabrina always tried to make time to run. It gave her time to think, to soothe away whatever was bothering her.

The pathway through the woods was unpaved and worn, the edges of it shrouded with patches of wild strawberries, glittering like little rubies as she passed them. 

She remembered being a little girl, her hand in Hilda’s as they wandered down the very same pathway en route to gather berries. Hilda would give her a little basket of her own and tell her, _pick only the red ones, love,_ and Sabrina would treat it like a treasure hunt, like she was some fearless explorer searching through the wilderness for only the worthiest of gems. Even so, she somehow always ended up sticking more of them in her mouth than her basket.

At home, Zelda would fight with her to scrub away the red that stained her face and hands, while chastising Hilda for allowing her to consume so many unwashed berries, and how she’d better hope Sabrina didn’t get sick later from it. Deep down, Sabrina knew her aunt Zelda would fight off a smile every time she smacked her berry tinged lips in the mirror and said, _look at my lipstick, auntie - I look just like you!_

Sabrina liked to think she had ended up the perfect mix of both of her aunts - tough like Zelda when she wanted something, but also soft like Hilda when it came to the people she loved.

She slowed as she approached the downtown district, passing the cafe on her way. Inside, her aunt was working her magic into pastries, while another one of their part-time employees manned the register. A little ways down, she saw the green overhang of the gym.

“There she is!” a familiar voice called, then, to the tune of ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’, “running queen, young and sweet, only twenty-four!”

Sabrina walked the rest of the way over to where Theo was standing just in front of Greendale’s newly renovated gym, _Body Magic_ , which she thought sounded a bit like the name of a strip club. She imagined at least a few people were disappointed after Googling the name.

“Hey, Theo,” Sabrina greeted with a smile, a little out of breath as her lungs worked to bring her breathing to a normal rate once more. “How are you?”

“Feeling just peachy,” Theo answered with his own smile, which intimidated Sabrina just slightly. She had no idea what she was signing up for this time around, and Theo’s next sentence didn’t help soothe her worries. “You’ll be feeling the same once I’ve melted your bones down into pliable putty, ‘Brina.” 

Sabrina tried to look brave as she replied with a quick, “can’t wait.” There had been a couple of times where Sabrina had attended Theo’s yoga class - during her last school break, to be exact - when he had first begun teaching and his methods were still quite gentle. His Yelp reviews had gone up a lot since then, though, so at least she knew she would walk away with a good experience, even if the process hurt a bit.

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” Theo said, motioning for her to follow him into the gym.

Sabrina trailed behind him. “Just don’t forget - I’m a runner, not a gymnast.”

Theo smirked. “I’m mostly messing with you, you know? It’s a beginner’s level yoga class. You’ll be fine.” He held the big glass door open for her. “The goal is to make you feel zen.”

“I am already zen,” Sabrina said.

Theo looked her up and down quickly. “Whatever you say.”

The yoga studio was positioned further into the gym, behind a series of glass windows that looked out into the rest of the work-out area. There were a few people occupying the machines or otherwise wandering around, earbuds in, blocking out the rest of the world. 

Sabrina followed Theo into the studio where most of the class already sat on their mats, chatting with one another.

“Good morning,” Theo greeted. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

The class echoed the greeting, and then, they were all swept away, Theo guiding them through each position, offering positive and reaffirming words as they progressed.

Sabrina found that it wasn’t so bad. Even as her muscles ached through some of the more strenuous poses, she found that the relief that followed was nice. Her body felt lighter already.

Halfway through a gate-pose, she let her eyes wander out through the glass windows. Since the beginning of the class, the gym had filled up a bit more, and it wasn’t like she was ogling at anyone in particular, but she did wonder the sorts of familiar Greendale faces she might spot.

“Hold just a little longer,” Theo said, and Sabrina did, because at this point she really was into it. 

Her eyes lingered over to the dumbbell station, absentmindedly landing on someone. He stood with his back turned, a weight in each hand, particularly nice shoulders, biceps for days, and - _well,_ she thought there may still be a bit of charm to Greendale. She squinted a bit, trying to get a better look, wondering if it were someone she already knew, or had known back in the day. Not very new people moved to Greendale.

And then, he turned around, and Sabrina fell back on her ass, thankful for the mat. Thankful even more so that he hadn’t seen her.

Nick Scratch stood across the gym just as clueless about her presence as she wished she could be about his - _a dumbbell in each hand, particularly nice shoulders, and biceps for days._

Her mind shouted gibberish at her, and it was a miracle she didn’t voice it into the yoga studio.

“Are you okay?” Theo asked, looking at her strangely.

“Just fine,” Sabrina replied, a little quicker than she intended.

After looking at her for a second longer, Theo moved on. Sabrina was grateful. “Well, let’s end on an easy pose,” he continued, shifting his position to a seated one, legs crossed, palms resting on his knees. He was talking again, offering words of praise as he closed out his class. “--and don’t forget, I’ll see you on Thursday,” he finished a few seconds later.

Soon enough, the class began to filter out. Sabrina stayed behind with Theo.

“Wowzers, that was great. Let’s get breakfast at Cee’s. What do you say?” she piped up eagerly. 

Theo looked up from where he was rolling up his mat. “Sure,” he said slowly. “You’re acting kind of weird all of the sudden - are you sure you’re okay?”

 _I think Nicholas Scratch may have - no, he definitely has - gotten even hotter and this makes matters much worse for me,_ Sabrina wanted to say but refrained.

“I’m feeling zen,” she insisted instead, kneeling down to roll up her own mat. “Your class did wonders.” She tried very hard not to look back out through the windows again, reminding herself that, as much as she didn’t like it, Nick was allowed to exist there. Greendale was, unfortunately, his home too. 

“You just used the word ‘Wowzers’,” Theo pointed out, eyes narrowed. “You got mad at Harvey for unironically using the word ‘Yeet’ that one time and now you’re speaking like a Baby-Boomer. Something’s up.”

“Yes, my desire for some breakfast,” Sabrina sassed back.

Theo laughed lightly and knelt down to pick up the mats. He tucked them away in the nearby closet. “Okay, okay. Breakfast for the hangry princess.” 

Sabrina bumped his shoulder in response lightheartedly. They headed out of the studio, back through the front of the gym. Theo stopped to chat with the front desk attendant for a bit - a green-haired boy with a name-tag that read “Robin.” He was glittery-eyed as he introduced Sabrina, and she was well aware of the way Robin looked back at him. While the term ‘friend’ had been used, Sabrina was certain there was something else there, too.

On their way out she was already buzzing with excitement, all thoughts of Nick long gone as she geared up to bug Theo over the boy they’d just left when someone called out after them.

“Theo!”

Sabrina looked up. Dread filled her stomach.

Theo stopped and turned, a grin spreading across his face. “Nick Scratch, the one and only!”

Sabrina watched, both in shock and agony, as they bumped fists. 

Nick looked at her next and very cordially said, “Sabrina.”

“Nicholas,” she replied, her tone even.

Theo didn’t seem to notice, or he perhaps just didn’t care and continued the conversation anyway. “What are you doing here? You aren’t usually here on Mondays.”

“I had some time,” Nick explained, raking a hand through his dark curls. His other hand gripped his gym bag where it was slung lazily over his shoulders. He looked worn from his work-out, his hair a little looser, a soft sheen along his exposed skin. She hated it. “Thought I’d use it wisely.”

“You should’ve come to my class!” Theo said in a manner that made it clear he’d bugged Nick about it before. “I could’ve pulled out an extra mat, no problem.”

Nick chuckled. “I’m not much of a yoga guy,” he replied. “I’m not bendy enough. Probably would’ve embarrassed myself.”

“Sabrina fell on her ass and no one noticed,” Theo said and Sabrina had to catch her jaw before it dropped. “My class is judgement free.”

Nick glanced at her briefly, the slightest of smiles tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked like he wanted to say something smart. Sabrina dared him with a glare, arms crossed over her chest. He looked back at Theo quickly. “Maybe next time,” he said and then, after a short pause, got to the point. “Actually, I stopped you because I wanted to let you know - your books are in. We got them delivered yesterday morning.”

Theo practically burst into excitement. Sabrina straightened a bit, a little of her own eagerness showing. 

The book in discussion was Theo’s debut autobiography - _Transitioning in a Small Town,_ which documented the ups and downs he’d experienced as a transgender youth in Greendale. He’d spent the last couple of years meticulously crafting it - pulling from memory and the dozens of journals he’d kept in his teens. His work had paid off, it had gotten published and was set to be released soon.

“I can’t believe it,” Theo breathed. “In three weeks it’ll hit shelves. The feeling is unreal.” The stars in his eyes were hard to miss. It made Sabrina smile. She was so incredibly proud of her friend and everything that he had accomplished. “Nick, do you think I’d be able to stop by and maybe open a few boxes? So I could get a good look at them?”

“Absolutely,” Nick said, donning his own smile. “You can come by whenever - I’ll have a box cutter ready with your name on it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Nick’s smile grew, one side a little higher than the other. “Just to confirm, you’re still down for the signing, right?”

Theo held up his thumb. “Most definitely. I’ll text you the deets if anything changes,” he promised.

“Great,” Nick said. “I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you around.” He bumped his fist with Theo’s again and then slipped between them. “Bye, Sabrina,” he told her, though he didn’t stick around long enough to wait for the response he likely knew he wouldn’t get. As he brushed by her, she froze. 

The scent of leather and vetiver lingered. She frowned as her stomach shifted. Even years later, she still recognized that scent. 

She shook her head as a surge of memories flooded through it. In her mind, her hands grasped at hair the color of darkened skies and her lips dragged along skin as golden as a summer sunset, and for a moment, she caught herself basking in the warmth - _wanting it._

“Brina?”

Sabrina blinked and Theo was in her view again.

“You spaced out on me. Ready to go?”

“Yes,” she breathed. 

*

“So,” Sabrina started, pulling away at a piece of the soft flaky croissant that made up the exterior of her egg and cheese sandwich. “That boy - Robin was his name?”

There was a little smile at the edge of Theo’s lips, ready to form. “What about him?”

“What about him?” Sabrina repeated. “He likes you!”

“I know,” Theo said and then gave her a wink, the lower half of his face disappearing behind his own sandwich. 

“Well, then?” she shot back, hand raised in a questioning manner. 

Theo pretended to be oblivious. “Well then _what?”_ he asked.

“Well then ask him out!”

This time Theo picked at his sandwich, cleverly smirking. “Who says I haven’t already?”

Sabrina shook her head at her friend’s antics. Theo was always the most playful of the group. “You’re insufferable,” she said, but her smile showed that she was only kidding. “And how is it going? Are the two of you dating?”

“I’m not really sure. We’re still sort of just talking,” Theo answered, absentmindedly stirring a packet of sugar into his coffee. The coffee at the diner was just alright, Sabrina thought, not like the sort they served at the cafe, but it was there and it was hot. The food made up for it plenty. 

Sabrina smiled. “Well, that’s good. I can tell he likes you just by the way he looks at you, so I think you’ll be just fine.”

Theo nodded. “What about you? Are you still seeing that - God, what was his name? The clay-guy.”

Sabrina snorted. Theo dubbed every guy she had ever gone out with since Harvey with a code-name. “Yeah, no. I cut that off after the third date,” she explained. “I’ve had it with the artist types. I mean, Harvey was great, but I won’t go down that road again. All clay-guy talked about was, well, _clay._ I get he’s a sculptor but it was incessant. Day in and day out.”

Theo laughed. “You truly know how to pick them.”

“I do, don’t I?” she asked with a small laugh of her own. “Roz is right. Every attractive guy has a fatal flaw. Or a weird fetish.”

“Well, what’s mine then?” Theo asked, posing dramatically for her.

Sabrina smirked and pointed to his coffee cup. “You prefer Cee’s coffee over Hilda’s.”

“Ouch,” Theo said, pretending to be hurt. “Sorry I didn’t practically grow up in a coffee-shop, you coffee snob.”

Sabrina gave him a playful kick under the table. They spent some time going back and forth about the coffee, her ever proud of her aunt’s legacy - their fair trade coffee beans were roasted in house and ground fresh every day because Hilda absolutely did not mess around and Sabrina insisted it made a difference.

Eventually, they settled down, and Sabrina finally let out what had been on her mind since they left the gym.

“So, you and Nicholas are - _friends?”_

Theo only shrugged, sipping his coffee slowly and appearing unbothered. “Sort of,” he began. “He’s been helping me out with my book. You know, reading over the manuscript, helping me with the flow, stuff like that. If it weren’t for him, it would’ve taken me at least another half a year to plow through the initial edits.”

“My cousin told me Nicholas has only been in town for the last few months - your book’s been out of its editing stages for a while now…”

He nodded. “Nick was in town briefly last summer,” he continued. “I bumped into him at Cassius’. He was there picking up some books and we started talking. I mentioned I had a manuscript completed. One thing led to another and we were emailing back and forth about it. Not a big deal, but he helped out a lot. I tried to pay him, but he wouldn’t let me.”

“Oh,” Sabrina said, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt. She had assumed that maybe they were just acquaintances, but it seemed like their relationship went a little deeper than that. She would be lying if she didn’t admit she was somewhat hurt. 

First, she’d found out Nick and Ambrose were friends, then she’d unluckily caught her aunt doting on him, and now he and Theo were buddies? What was next - Harvey and him were going to hit it off? Why couldn’t everyone just be reasonable and hate him? She didn’t think that was too much to ask for.

Theo caught on. “Hey,” he said, his voice a little softer. “Listen, Nick’s not a bad guy. I know he’s done some things-”

“He hurt me,” Sabrina corrected, glancing down at her glass as she swirled the remnants of her orange juice around. She couldn’t blame Theo. All Theo knew about was the date. Roz, her very best friend, was the only other person who knew exactly what had gone down between them. _But,_ she could blame Nick. Who did he think he was, cozying up to her friends and family?

“He stood you up, I know,” Theo continued. “I’m not excusing that. It was a dick move. But he’s got some redeeming qualities, I think.” He chanced a smile. “Remember when I came out? He was the first guy on the football team to actually call me Theo and use my proper pronouns. And he stood up for me when the others on the team tried to pick on me. That counts for something right?” 

Sabrina nodded. It did, she had to admit that. 

Then, Theo smirked and sat back. “Best of all - he totally busted up Billy.” 

She sat up slightly, crossing her arms across the table after setting down her glass. That was another thing. “He did. Why do you think he did that?” she asked. 

He shrugged. “I don’t know. You remember the rumors, I’m sure.”

“That it was over a girl,” Sabrina recalled. She remembered the way it had stung her to hear that. Over a girl, she thought grimly. Nick knew plenty of those. She had been naive to believe she was the only one. “But do you think it was true?”

“Honestly, I can’t say I believe it. It was high-school. Gossip ran rampant.” He sighed. “I never asked him about it. It seems like a sore subject, especially with the way things went down after that.” Theo paused briefly, thumbing the handle of his mug softly. “He got kicked off the team, wasn’t allowed to walk at graduation, and had to miss the school trip to Europe. Bet it sucked for him.”

Sabrina shrugged. “Maybe he deserved it.”

“Maybe. Or maybe we don’t know the whole story,” Theo said. “Billy’s dad was the coach and there were rumors that he was paying Principal Hawthorne. It’s easy to get thwarted when the system’s rigged in favor of one student in particular.” He glared into his coffee cup before he rose it up in the form of a toast. “Fuck Billy Marlin.”

Sabrina raised her empty glass of orange juice and repeated, “fuck Billy Marlin.”

And fuck Nick Scratch, too, she nearly added on.

Except she’d already done that.

  
  


*

_t h e n_

  
  


“Do you have a condom?” 

He hadn’t expected that - she could tell as he pulled back to gaze down at her. Her legs were hooked around his waist and she could, very clearly, feel _something_ pressing against her and yet, Nick looked absolutely puzzled by her question. Finally, after a second he murmured, “in my back pocket.” 

Her hand snaked around his back and he nearly yelped when it settled on his ass. The scripts that were spread across her bed hit the floor.

“Wait - Sabrina.” She stopped. It was her turn to look confused. “Are you _sure?”_

“Yes,” Sabrina said, and then she declared, in an almost over-the-top fashion, “I want to have sex.” She paused when she reconsidered the situation. A flash of fear rang across her face suddenly. “Oh no, do you not want to? I shouldn’t just assume you do - that’s not right.”

Nick quirked a smirk. “Oh, no, I’m definitely game.” She breathed a sigh of relief and then went for his shirt again. She got as far as touching the exposed skin near the spot where his shirt was slightly hiked up before he stopped her again. “But, Spellman, aren’t you…”

“A virgin,” Sabrina finished with a nod as though she were commenting on the weather. “Maybe I don’t want to be one anymore.”

Nick nodded slowly. Her finger trailed along his waistband impatiently and he bit his lip for a second, eyes fluttering shut at her touch. She liked the way he responded to her. “Okay. So, another question-”

“Does sex generally require this much talking beforehand?” Sabrina asked. Nick couldn’t help but chuckle in response.

“I’m just making sure,” he said. His fingers touched her chin and he gently pushed her to look at him. His dark eyes were clouded with desire, yet there was something gentle there, too. He wanted to be sure. “Are you suggesting sex because you don’t want to be a virgin anymore, or do you actually want to sleep with me? Because you shouldn’t feel pressured to--”

Sabrina answered with lightning speed, cutting him off before he could finish. She didn’t need the peer-pressure talk. Her aunts had drilled that into her head. She simply wanted to experience it for herself. With him. Because she liked him. “I _want_ to sleep with you.” She kissed him, quick. His lips chased after hers. She thought it would finally happen and then:

“Okay, sorry, one more thing: why?” 

“Why what?”

“Why _me?”_

“Because I like you,” Sabrina answered with ease and honesty. “And I trust you.”

Nick smiled in that flirty way of his. Warmth pooled in her stomach. “Some people would tell you not to.”

“Do I look like I listen to some people?” Sabrina challenged.

Nick groaned low. His lips were on hers, flooding her through and through with a heat so blistering and bright it should’ve burned her, but Sabrina didn’t mind. She found she quite enjoyed the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've never had wild strawberries - you're missing out! I have really vivid memories of being a little girl in Bosnia going with my very own aunt out beyond her farm to collect them. It inspired that bit of Sabrina's past.
> 
> Also so like - Clayboy (I'm not calling him by his real name sorry) isn't coming into this fic anytime soon, but it was fun to imagine him as a sculptor Sabrina may have dated in the past. And Robin was SUPER CUTE with Theo, so much that I wanted to include him in this, too. 
> 
> We got to see a bit more into Sabrina's past-relationship with Nick. A lot of you guys were right! They did the devil's tango - and Nick was Sabrina's very first! But he messed up - obvs!
> 
> Let me know what you thought in the comments - I live for them!


	6. between sheets and rainstorms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! One day I'll have an actual posting schedule but until then ✌

_*_

_t h e n_  
  


She used to watch him sometimes, in a fashion similar to the way some people watched the gruesome scenes in horror movies through the cracks between their fingers. A safe distance - a _comfortable_ distance. A way to see just the right amount, enough to get the picture without having to endure the brutality and gore.

Until she decided she no longer wanted that. It didn’t fit her. Gore didn’t scare her. Sabrina didn’t flinch when the oblivious teenagers in slasher films were, well, _slashed._ She watched, eager and unafraid, wanting the whole picture and promising herself she would never find herself in that situation.

She wanted to know Nick in the same manner - wholly - because that was the only way she knew how to know people. But Nick didn’t make it easy. There were rumors about him - that he got around, that he didn’t date, that he sometimes forgot the names of the people he’d slept with - but he never seemed to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care what was said. He was liked, still.

In some ways, Sabrina knew him very well.

She knew the outline of his silhouette, even from afar. With her eyes closed and her finger tracing along his features, she could locate the freckle on his neck with ease. 

She had cemented in her memory the way his brow furrowed when he was concentrating, the way he pinched his lower lip between his teeth when he was in thought. 

When his hair was a little longer, a little looser, there was a single curl that never conformed, no matter how many times he brushed it from his forehead.

In other ways, he was entirely a stranger.

She didn’t know the sorts of movies he liked, or the songs he played on repeat. She didn’t know what he did on the weekends, if he spent it with his family or his friends. She didn’t know him _-_ deep down, below the surface, she didn’t know _Nick._

She didn’t know what she meant to him, but she was resolute to find out. 

Two weeks ago, she had kissed Nick outside of the school. A week later, she’d brought him to an empty mortuary, still a virgin, and after he’d left, she’d sat with the twinge between her legs as a reminder of their rendezvous, realizing she had given him a special piece of her and wondering if she had gotten anything special in return. 

She wanted to tell Roz, because Roz was her best friend and she had told her all about _her_ first time last summer while at Bible Camp, of all places. But then, she also thought if she breathed life into it, perhaps it would all crumble and fall to shambles and she would be left wondering if it had even existed at all. She wanted to wait until Nick wasn’t a shadow to her, but a real person.

They shared glances in their shared classes, shoulder bumps in particularly crowded areas of the school, and in empty hallways, he kissed her behind the door of her open locker as though it were a sunset backdrop and she was the only person for miles and miles. 

Another week passed and they presented their reading of Romeo and Juliet. Afterward, Sabrina had boldly asked him to walk her home, knowing well enough that there would be no one at the mortuary. At the gates to the Spellman yard, she asked if he wanted to come inside.

The second time was better.

She fumbled less, garnered more of her usual day to day confidence. Nick didn’t mind it when she pinned him beneath her that time. He had released her name in the form of a low growl to show that he may have, in fact, even enjoyed it.

When she opened her eyes long enough to look down at him, she had caught him staring at her through eyes so black and pure they had reminded her of a starless sky. And there was a look plaguing his face, one that he quickly covered, but she had caught nonetheless. It reminded her of the way he had gazed up at the sky in the planetarium - full of awe and wonder - and it briefly shook her.

But then she had caught sight of his lips and decided that they looked pitifully alone and the previous thought escaped her entirely.

When it ended, they didn’t have much time to bask in the afterglow. Nick had shifted their position so that she was once more tucked beneath him, lips flush against hers, kissing her slow, when his phone rang out on her nightstand. He barely glanced at it before deciding it wasn’t worth his time.

“It’s Billy,” Nick clarified. “I’m late for practice.”

It dawned on Sabrina then. “Oh my god! I forgot about that. Nick - I’m sorry, I asked you to walk me home and--”

The phone rang a few more times before it finally went to voicemail. It picked shrilling again shortly after, a second call coming through. Nick ignored it again and instead smiled at her. “It’s okay, Spellman,” he soothed. “I wanted to.”

Nick untangled his limbs from hers, likely deciding he should at least make an attempt to go. He would likely be reprimanded, but he didn’t seem to care. Sabrina sat up, too, and blurted out what was on her mind before she could stop herself. 

“I don’t want to just be a girl you sleep with.” 

He looked at her as though she had grown a second head. She had caught him off guard. She did that a lot, she realized. “You’re not,” he said simply. And then, a little softer, he added, “you’re not that at all.”

Her response was delayed, but just as firm. “What am I?”

The phone screamed in the background, filling the silence that had momentarily settled between them. Neither of them flinched this time. 

“Insufferable,” Nick said finally, quirking a small smile. He leaned in, closing the space between them, his lips chasing hers. She fled like a wild goose. “Impossible,” he continued, “also: wild, reckless, somehow still always right, the certain end of me--”

 _“Nick,”_ Sabrina warned and crossed her arms over her bare chest. “I’m being serious.”

Nick took her hand, a little nervous suddenly. His was warm and a little rough from football. She tried not to think of all the ways his hand had touched her earlier as it would ruin her entire mission. “I’m not sure I’d make a good boyfriend,” he said finally, after a second. “I don’t really know how to be one, but Sabrina - you are absolutely _not_ just a girl I sleep with. You are so much more. Trust me.”

Sabrina smiled. “I do trust you.”

The phone rang again. Nick groaned and stood to pull on his pants. 

“Let’s see a movie this weekend,” he proposed seconds later. “Saturday night - there’s a double feature and I know you love a good horror film.”

She tried not to smile too big. “Okay,” she decided quickly.

Nick smiled too. “Great. I’ll pick you up?”

“We can meet there,” Sabrina suggested. “There’s no point in you coming all the way out here just for us to go back to town again.” She didn’t know where he lived exactly, but not very many people lived further out than the Spellmans. 

He nodded. “Sounds good, Spellman.”

After donning his undershirt, his eyes scanned her bed for the other piece of his wardrobe. Sabrina snatched it up right before he could and stuck out her tongue as she pulled the fabric over her head. It was his football sweatshirt - a Baxter High red with his surname printed along the back in big, bold, gold letters. 

“Thief,” Nick said and kissed her. She felt him smile against her lips. “I’ll forgive you since it looks so much better on you.”

Sabrina wrapped her arms around herself to show that she had no plans to give up the garment and blushed. His familiar scent washed over her, making her stomach do a little giddy dance. 

Nick gathered the rest of his belongings quickly. His phone had finally stopped ringing, but Sabrina couldn’t tell if it was because Billy had gotten tired of it or if Nick had shut it off entirely. She didn’t have much time to consider it before he kissed her once more.

“Bye,” he said softly. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“See you,” Sabrina breathed, kissing him again sneakily. 

Sabrina fell back on her bed once he was out of her room. She waited to hear the front door shut before she allowed herself to make any embarrassing squeals or flails, but it didn’t come.

Nick poked his head in less than a second later, his finger pointing in her direction. “A rainstorm,” he said with a grin, “with lightning and thunder. That’s what you are.”

Sabrina threw a pillow at him. He laughed as he narrowly dodged it. 

“Maybe I’ll rethink your date proposal,” she grumbled.

“Hey - it’s a compliment. I _like_ rain.”

“Good _bye,_ Nick!”

  
  


*

_n o w_

Sabrina stared at her ceiling as the early morning rain pattered against the circular window above her bed. It took the pale red of her wallpaper and washed it a dull, boring gray, casting a dreary feel over the whole room and making her tired despite having just woken up minutes ago. 

There was a silence that sat heavy over the estate. Sabrina reached over and pat Salem on his tummy. He gave a whiny cat yawn and stretched out along the side of her body, prompting her to continue. 

“You’re my best boy,” Sabrina cooed with a little giggle, scratching under his chin. “I hope you know that.”

Salem chirped back, his eyes closed, paws in the air, not a single care in the world. It truly must be something to be a cat, Sabrina thought. 

She didn’t have a lot of time to savor the peaceful rainy morning with her cat before the abrupt sound of stomping resonated through the hall and her bedroom door swung open, nearly slamming into the wall beside it. Sabrina jolted upright in her bed.

Ambrose stood with his finger pointed directly at her and proclaimed, loudly and for the entire world to know, “you fucked Nicholas Scratch!”

Her mind went resoundingly blank.

She had but a single second to consider her next course of action. Her cousin stood at her door, effectively blocking her exit. She supposed she could jump from her window and run away forever to live in the woods as a vengeful spirit, but that would instead likely end in broken bones and tears. 

She could lunge at Ambrose and prepare to fight to the death. 

Yes, that sounded better.

She chose the latter and scrambled from bed, berating Ambrose with a pillow on her way. Salem squawked as he was launched off his plush resting place and onto the floor. He puffed up, double the size, and quickly sauntered off into the bathroom and away from the noisy humans.

“Shut up!” Sabrina shouted as she raced over to him. Once close enough, she pounced and pushed him to the wall, shoving her palm flat over his grinning mouth to keep him silent. She had no idea if her aunts were home and the last thing she needed was for them to hear what he had just said. “Who told you?”

Roz. She was the only other person who knew. But that didn’t make sense. Roz wouldn’t tell anyone her deepest, darkest secrets. They had a pact and that was very unlike her.

Nick. It _had_ to be him.

He told Ambrose!

Her cousin gripped her wrist and forcefully slid her hand off his mouth. _“You_ just did,” he said smugly.

Sabrina released him and stepped back, staring at him, dumbfounded and realizing what had just happened. “That’s not fair!” she finally squeaked.

“All’s fair in love and war, my dear cousin.”

“There is neither love nor war here!” she shouted back. “Just _you_ meddling!”

Ambrose stepped away from the wall and ruffled her sleep mussed hair. “I didn’t meddle much. You’re not very good at hiding things, and that day he stopped by the cafe? One could practically cut through the sexual tension with a butter knife.”

“There is absolutely no sexual tension between Nicholas and I!” Sabrina assured. “Now, the hateful sort of tension - there’s plenty of that.”

“Right,” Ambrose said in feigned agreement. Sabrina resisted the urge to throw a tantrum and pound her fists against his chest the way she used to as a kid. “What happened exactly. Please do spill.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Sabrina replied and made her way back to her bed to begin the process of straightening it, to avoid looking at him any longer. She fluffed her pillows and propped them back up in an orderly fashion, then straightened her sheets and quilt, all while ignoring eye-contact with her cousin. “He lost interest.”

“I consider Nick a friend,” Ambrose began in a slightly more serious tone. Sabrina cringed at the use of the word ‘friend’. “Being that Prudence and I are involved and all - but cous, you always come first. I know it was years ago, but if you’d like me to speak to him…” 

Sabrina turned to roll her eyes at her cousin. His inflection implied that there would not be much talking. _“Please,_ Ambrose. This isn’t the dark ages. I don’t need you barbarically defending my honor when I am capable of it myself. What’s done is done, I only want to hate Nicholas in peace from now on.” Her hands were on her hips now. “Can you allow me that or what?”

Ambrose held up both of his hands, palms out, to show that he’d meant no harm. “As you wish,” he said.

*

Hours later, at the cafe, the rain did not let up. Sabrina leaned against the counter and peered out into the streets of Greendale, which, save for a few cars darting by, were nearly empty of pedestrians. Even inside, despite the stocked cases of desserts and the gallons of milk ready to be frothed for all sorts of cozy drinks sat untouched.

Sabrina sighed and threw a glance at her cousin, who sat thrown over one of the chairs in the seating area like some sort of modern baroque painting, seemingly perplexed by whatever was pulled up on his phone.

“According to this quiz I just took,” he began, “if I were a cheese I would be camembert.”

She blinked. “Congrats.”

“You would be a pepper-jack,” he continued. “Spicy.”

“Thrilling,” Sabrina drawled as she propped herself up on her elbows. Across the street, the bookstore sat lonesome too. She had seen Nick go in earlier and for a second, she wondered if he was as bored as she was. The thought was quickly squashed away. 

Suddenly, the glass door to the cafe opened, revealing a disgruntled Prudence. She shut her umbrella before she came in and Sabrina looked her over quickly, shocked to find that she appeared just as put together as she would’ve any other day. It seemed that not even a drop of rain had dared touch her.

Ambrose immediately sat up. 

“Sorry, Prudence,” Sabrina said. “The cauldron’s down today and we’re fresh out of baby hearts.”

“A shame,” Prudence replied, dropping down onto a stool with the utmost elegance. Ambrose sauntered over and took his place at her side, like a puppy eagerly waiting to be noticed. “I suppose I could settle for a cappuccino.”

Sabrina turned to prepare her drink so that she would not have to watch her cousin and Prudence latch onto one another like two mating star-fish. She slid her drink over to her once finished. Prudence separated from Ambrose to attend to it, giving the hot drink a quick blow before she sipped at it.

“What brings you in today?” Ambrose asked, pulling up a stool.

Prudence sighed. “I had a showing scheduled today, but the rain’s caused a cancellation. I thought about meeting up with my sisters, but Dorcas is driving both Agatha and I insane with her incessant rambling about that boy.”

Ambrose quirked a brow. “Melvin?”

Sabrina gawked. _“Melvin?”_ she asked in disbelief.

Prudence rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she confirmed impatiently. “Her stupidest decision by far, if you ask me.” She sighed and set her coffee cup down. “And Nick’s been unbearable as of late, too.”

Sabrina tried not to snicker as she turned to wipe down some of the mugs behind her, deciding to nope out of the conversation as soon as he brought up.

“Oh, is that so,” Ambrose said, slyly, and Sabrina shot him a glare over her shoulder as though daring him to continue pestering her. If Prudence found out that her history with Nick ran deeper than she thought, she would never get to live it down. 

“He’s been sulking,” Prudence continued, and then Sabrina felt her the heat of her eyes on her as well. She polished the mugs a little more aggressively. “Odd enough, it started around the time Sabrina came back.”

She spun on her heel in a snap at the mention of her. _“He’s_ sulking? I’m sorry, Prudence, but am I supposed to care?”

Prudence shrugged, offering her a smirk. “I don’t expect you too. I hardly care, myself,” she said. “But it’s annoying. Can’t the two of you sort out your issues so that the rest of us may go about our lives in an orderly fashion? It’s a small town and both of your egos are too big right now to go unnoticed.”

Sabrina threw down her rag just as a pang of thunder radiated over the shop. “No offense to you, but your brother is an idiot and _he’s_ the one with the big ego who owes _me_ an explanation.”

“Then talk to him,” Prudence replied simply, not bothered by Sabrina or the bright flash of lightning that preceded the round of thunder. Ambrose, on the other hand, jumped like a frightened child and went off to gaze out of the windows at the front of the coffee shop. Prudence’s gaze was unwavering as she continued. “Get an explanation for whatever it is that two of you went through and put it behind you because frankly, the whole ‘holding-an-endless-grudge’ look isn’t a good one on you. It’s more _my_ thing, to be honest.” 

Sabrina’s jaw dropped slightly. Prudence let her attention fall back to her steamy cappuccino.

Outside, the weather worsened, the wall of rainfall cast a heavy opaqueness over the street. It was as though a thick layer of chiffon had been laid out of over the windows, making it nearly impossible to see even just a few feet outside the door. 

“Goodness, what awful weather,” Hilda mused, suddenly appearing from the double doors that led to the kitchen. She wandered over to the counter and squinted her eyes to get a good look outside. Thick droplets pelted against windows, rattling the small cafe.

“I don’t think it’s letting up anytime soon,” Ambrose commented.

“I’m willing to bet no one will want to brave this rain for a cup of coffee, no matter how tasty. I say we lock up and get cozy in the kitchen with some lunch, yes? Once it’s safe to leave, I’ll send us all home with a box of pastries and tomorrow, we can discount whatever’s leftover.”

“That sounds delightful, auntie,” Ambrose said eagerly. “I’m calling dibs on the peach shortcake.”

Hilda ushered with her hand for the trio to follow. “Come along, little lambs.”

Ambrose hurried after her. Prudence stood from stool and trailed behind slowly, coffee in hand.

Sabrina, however, didn’t budge. She stared through the glass with narrowed eyes, her vision drawn to where the bookstore would have been visible had the rain not been so heavy, and hesitated. 

Prudence’s voice echoed in her mind. Talk to him. Sabrina didn’t know if she was capable of talking - yelling, yes probably, but _talking?_

Her heart pounded in her chest.

Then, recklessly, she made her decision.

Sabrina shoved her way through the cafe’s entrance. Her aunt’s worried calls after her were lost in the sizzle of the rain as it pounded roughly against the concrete outside.

She plunged steadfast into the chaos.

*

_t h e n_

  
  


Sabrina gazed up at the glowing Paramount sign above before she dropped her attention back to her phone. 

There was still no response.

 **Sabrina [7:25PM]** **  
** Hey scratch you better hurry up-  
Don’t make us miss the previews-  
you’ve got give 5 mins-

She typed out the message quickly, nervously tapping her foot against the pavement. Her eyes scanned the small crowd that had gathered at the ticket booth, searching for his dark hair. A sigh left her mouth when she found he wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Sabrina released an audible squeak when she realized she had been chewing on her lower lip, effectively smearing the classic red lip she had opted for that evening. Grumbling to herself, she quickly pulled out a compact mirror and fretted over her appearance, making sure to clean the smeared lipstick.

Full of butterflies, she gave her outfit one more look-over. She wore a little black dress - simple but date appropriate, she thought. It certainly fit in with the aesthetic of her date, who seemingly thrived in dark clothing.

She still couldn’t believe she was actually going on a date with Nick. The very same Nick she had never thought cared for dates or steady relationships, and while the relationship status was still pending, she was still shocked they’d even made it this far.

It was an odd thing to think considering she had already slept with him. Twice. 

Sabrina wondered if tonight would be the third.

Though, she doubted he would make it that far if he made them late to the film. Unlike most people, who didn’t seem to care whether they saw them or not, she actually enjoyed the previews. Her friends teased her about not only that, but also the way she managed to herd them through the theater like some sort of mother figure - timing their concession stand visit, making sure they all used the restroom beforehand so there would be no interruptions, shushing them when they got too loud in the theater. She took her role seriously.

For Nick’s sake, she decided she would tone down the crazy tonight.

Sabrina checked the time once more.

It was seven-thirty on the dot.

 **Sabrina [7:30PM]**  
Niiiiiiiick-  
Where are you????-  
☹-  
If you’re not here soon i’ll be forced to meet you inside-

She hit send and waited.

And waited.

And _waited._

And Nick didn’t show.

Not five minutes later. Not fifteen. Not even an hour or so later, when she finally decided to call it quits, mostly because the pedestrians that passed her were starting to stare because at this point, she was near tears. 

She started to wander aimlessly down the street, stunned and unsure of where she was headed.

Nick did _not_ stand her up.

He would not. She _trusted_ him.

She gave one last glance at her phone and a sharp, gut-wrenching pain shot through her body. 

No response.

By now, the tears had begun to fall freely, leaving noticeable trails of make-up down her cheeks. Just before she shoved her phone back into her purse - for good that evening - a call came through. 

The last remaining ounce of hope she had was crushed when she realized it wasn’t him, but some random Greendale number, which she didn’t answer because she was nowhere near in the mood of wanting to deal with telemarketers or spam of any sort.

The sky above her cackled loudly, as though laughing at her, and Sabrina choked back a sob. She felt the rain before she saw it. It slid through her pale hair and down the low cut back of her dress, but she didn’t shiver, not even when it began to soak her fully. She didn’t react at all, she only clutched her bag to her shoulder and continued down the street. In her excitement, she had forgotten to bring an umbrella.

When she looked up a little later, she found that she had ended up in front of the Walker household.

At the front door, she gave a timid little knock and seconds later, the door swung open to reveal a confused Roz.

“...Brina?” she asked, voice as delicate as lace and tinged with worry.

Sabrina broke, falling forward and clutching her friend. Roz welcomed her with open arms and held her in a tight embrace, stroking a hand through her hair as she cried. 

“What’s wrong?” Roz inquired a second later.

Sabrina sniffled and tried to straighten herself out. She had never cried over a boy before. She had been disappointed over crushes, yes, sad even, but she had never _ever_ outright cried over someone this way. She felt embarrassed. She felt ashamed.

She’d trusted Nick with her emotions. She’d trusted him with her body. 

The thought made her cry harder.

 _“N-Nick,”_ she finally stammered out.

Roz blinked in confusion. She began to guide her into the house and out of the rain. They were both drenched now, but neither of them cared. There was a protective layer to Roz’s voice when she asked, “Nick? What did he do?”

Sabrina wailed helplessly. She did _not_ want to answer that.

Roz left her seated on the couch with a towel while she phoned her aunt to let her know that Sabrina was not coming home that evening, and hung up promptly before Zelda could question her any further. When she returned, Roz knelt before her best friend, tenderly rubbing her cold knees while she retreated, red-faced and tear-stained, even further underneath the towel.

“I think,” Sabrina said between sniffles, “I th-think Nick played me…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Nick's kind of a dick BUT I promise - next chapter we get some of his side! Also, next chapter we get a full-blown confrontation. I can't wait!!
> 
> Also, Ambrose knows now!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought by leaving a lil' comment! I so appreciate them <3
> 
> See you next time!


	7. second light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dumb. I thought I posted this last night but turns out I just drafted it.
> 
> Also, shoutout to Shakespeare for showing me that I can use simple misunderstandings as means to completely destroy things for the characters LOL.

_ * _

_ t h e n _

Nick stood, feet rooted to the sidewalk in front of the pale blue house he called home and watched as the lights of the ambulance disappeared down the street. Beside him, Dorcas clutched at his shirt like a frightened little bird, her head of red hair pressed firmly against his shoulder, his hand smoothing over her back absentmindedly. He didn’t notice it when her tears bled through the fabric near his neck.

He remained—dazed and frozen—even after the flashing lights disappeared, and soon the sound of sirens was replaced by the heavy thundering of his heart against his eardrums.

“Nick... _ Nick.” _

He slipped back into reality only when the rain started. At first, he thought it was Dorcas crying harder, but when he fixed his gaze up above the both of them, he saw the droplets as they fell from the pitch-black sky, white like flecks of snow. 

Nick quickly remembered where he was and dropped his attention back to his sister, who was now staring at him through tear-rimmed eyes. “It’s fine,” he said because it was what he was meant to say, despite that the pit of his stomach felt as black as the sky above. “She’s fine.”

Dorcas inhaled quickly, stifling another sob against his shoulder. Her body trembled. “Nick. What if—what if she’s sick again?” she asked, and her voice sounded so far away. He shook violently and blamed the cold rain. “Nick, what would we do?  _ Nick.” _

Between Prudence—who was older by only a few months—and himself, the crown of ‘older sibling’ was passed back and forth regularly. Prudence was sharp-witted and responsible when she needed to be. Her emotions were always in check, never bleeding out at the wrong time. She knew how to wipe away the tears and re-instill confidence and in situations like these, she knew exactly how to remain level-headed.

“She’s fine,” Nick repeated, this time with more clarity and a firmer tone. The rain had begun to pour heavily over the pair, soaking his clothing through and mingling with Dorcas’ tears until they were indistinguishable. He peeled her off of his side and faced her, hands on her shoulders. Dorcas sniffled at the loss of warmth and wrapped her arms around herself. “Amalia’s tough. She raised us, didn’t she?”

Dorcas’ lips trembled with a soft smile. She nodded once. 

Nick pushed her toward the porch and out of the rain. “Go inside and get dry. Agatha’s on her way home so you can fill her in. I’m going to meet Pru at the hospital.”

The porch light illuminated both of their figures and Nick suddenly became very aware of something. “What time is it?” he asked quickly.

Blue light flooded Dorcas’ face when she flicked through the screen on her phone. “Eight forty-five.” 

Nick’s hands flew to his soaked hair. “Fuck, I was supposed to be somewhere—” He patted down his jeans in search of something— “Where the hell is my phone? I think I dropped it somewhere around here earlier.” 

He backtracked through his evening.

Amalia had complained about feeling light-headed and then just minutes later, had collapsed in the kitchen right in front of Dorcas, who had shrieked so loud it had rattled Nick upstairs. The rest had happened in a blur. He could only faintly recall hovering over her, attempting to shake her awake while he phoned the ambulance. Minutes later, he’d carried her limp body out through the front door toward the paramedics and Nick assumed that at some point, he’d likely dropped his phone on the ground.

“Right there,” Dorcas said, pointing a pale finger toward the pavement in front of the porch. His black phone was barely visible in the dark as it laid face down in a puddle, further rain pelting at it from above.

He picked it up and prayed.

The screen was cracked. Not that it mattered—the phone had been rendered useless thanks to the water damage.

“Give me yours,” Nick demanded and held out his hand. She begrudgingly handed it over with a small pout. He squinted at the screen as he tried to recall the phone number Sabrina had read off to him weeks ago. 

He was thankful for his sharp memory now more than ever.

“Who are you calling?” Dorcas asked impatiently.

It picked up ringing and Nick waited, shoving a nagging Dorcas inside while simultaneously lecturing her to get out of her wet clothing. The call went to voice-mail and Nick cursed. 

He knew she was pissed and rightfully so. They were meant to meet over an hour ago now and his stomach dropped at the thought of her standing outside, waiting for him, likely getting more nervous with each passing minute that he was late. 

His mind and heart raced. He wondered if Sabrina had gone straight home, if she would open her door to him if he came knocking and pleading for a second chance to make it right. He had liked her for as long as he could remember and slowly, Sabrina had handed over a very special piece of herself to him—a shiny glimmer of her heart—and let him in on the warmth he had only before been able to watch from afar. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to give it back.

Nick murmured, “fuck,” to no one in particular as he weighed his options.

Sabrina was waiting for him and he so desperately wanted to run to her, but on the other hand, Amalia was in a bed in the hospital, dazed and confused, likely reaching out and hoping he would be there.

“I’m taking this!” Nick shouted into the house, wiggling Dorcas’ phone in his hand to show he had no intention of returning it yet. “I’ll call Agatha’s phone if anything happens.” 

Dorcas shouted something back, but he had already begun his descent down the stairs, deciding firmly where he would go.

Sabrina would have to wait.

He hoped she would wait.

*

_ n o w _

The rain was frigid as it beat against her body. Still, she trudged over the short distance between the cafe and the bookstore with a fiery determination. There wasn’t much on her mind other than the unyielding desire to see Nick. She had to get to the bottom of it all, right now, if she wanted her stay in Greendale to proceed peacefully. She couldn’t spend the rest of her time there avoiding him or glaring at him from afar.

A car horn blared, ferociously shaking her from her thoughts. She realized she had raced into the street, through the thick blanket of rain, and had narrowly missed the front end of someone’s vehicle. The wheels sloshed even more water in her direction, dousing her all over again.

It didn’t slow her down any.

It was only when she finally plowed through the entrance of the bookstore, met with warmth and silence, did the nerves start to overtake her. Her initial determination puddled with the residual water at her feet.

“Sabrina?”

Melvin looked at her questioningly. 

“Not now, Melvin,” Sabrina said and marched forth, disguising her anxiety as confidence. She stuck her head down every aisle in the bookstore until she found him, seated on a step-stool with an opened box in front of him. He was in the process of shelving a book when he looked her way and his eyes widened. 

Rain-drenched and emotions wild, Sabrina clenched her hands at her sides and approached him.

“Who do you think you are?” she demanded righteously.

Nick looked perplexed, as though he had suddenly begun contemplating the very fabrication of the universe. Then, very slowly and while pressing an uncertain finger to his chest, he answered, “Nick?”

“Yeah, I know your name, dumbass,” Sabrina snapped back. “I meant: what do you think you’re doing?”

His confusion didn’t falter any. “Shelving books...” Nick replied hesitantly, and his eyes shifted to Melvin, who had followed Sabrina and was now standing with his head poking into the aisle, appearing just as bewildered as Nick felt, as if to ask him whether or not it was a trick question.

“Yeah?” Sabrina asked, drawing his attention back to her. “And in between ‘shelving books’ have you, by any chance, been searching for any opportunities to infiltrate my life?”

Nick stared at her for a long time. “Sabrina, what the hell are you talking about?” he asked, and then his expression shifted the longer he considered her. He stood, taking a few swift steps toward her, his initial confusion quickly being replaced with concern. “Hey, are you okay? You’re soaked…”

Sabrina couldn’t believe it! She was angry and he was being considerate— _ how offensive! _

“I’ve got some towels in the back—hang on, I’ll grab you one,” Nick continued.

Sabrina clenched her fingers tighter and made a sound that resembled one Salem made any time she scooped him up and off of some place he was not meant to be. It made Nick halt and look at her oddly.

“I don’t want your stupid towels, I want you to answer my question!”

“I don’t know what you’re asking me...”

“You’re friends with my cousin!” she snapped, losing her patience. “And apparently, my Aunt Hilda wants to adopt you—” Nick cringed slightly, Sabrina continued obliviously, waving a hand around dramatically. “Then I find out that you’ve and  _ my _ friend, Theo, are apparently ‘best buds’, or whatever! What’s next? Will I walk in on you in Harvey’s bed?”

“As if your vanilla boyfriend was anywhere near my ‘To-Do’ list,” Nick scoffed. “Greendale’s a small town. I’m not trying to invade your bubble, but I see the same people everyday and I can’t help being friendly. Would you rather I hole myself up?”

“Well, if you’re suggesting it!” 

Nick sighed in exasperation, dropping his head just slightly and sliding his fingers through his hair. “What do you want, Sabrina?” he asked when his eyes met hers again. “What do you  _ actually _ want from me?”

Sabrina stared at him for. He held her gaze, waiting, expecting an answer. “I—” she paused and rubbed her hands over the exposed skin of her arms. That morning she had opted for a light blouse, appropriate for the warmer weather, but now it felt entirely too thin and it left her shivering. “I want to know why you didn’t come.” Then, as if he needed a further explanation, she elaborated. “At the movies, why did you stand me up?”

“Really?” Nick asked, exhaling a short breath like he couldn’t believe it. Then he shook his head and turned to leave. “It doesn’t even matter anymore.”

“It matters,” Sabrina shot back. “I want to know. I want to know what I did—or _ didn’t _ do.” She paused before she continued, swallowing back the ball of fear that had arisen in her throat. 

“What?” he breathed, snapping back around and suddenly sounding very offended. “You—Sabrina, you didn’t do anything. There was nothing wrong with you. It was  _ me. _ ”

Sabrina furrowed her brows and stared at him. Obviously, she hadn’t expected that.

Nick looked determined. “There was nothing wrong with you— _ at all. _ You were perfect, Sabrina. I don’t know you anymore, but I’d still argue the same thing. Yeah, you’re a raging brat sometimes and a chaotic justice-seeking Power Ranger if I’ve ever seen one, and I’m pretty sure the part of your brain that operates common sense shut off  _ ages _ ago and—”

“Okay! I very much get it, Nicholas Scratch!”

“—somehow you were still the most radiant person I’d ever known! It truly blows my fucking mind.”

Sabrina didn’t know whether she wanted to shout at him or stay entirely silent. Thankfully, Nick didn’t make her choose.

“Sabrina, I would’ve bent over backward for you.” Her heart fluttered in her chest. He continued. “I didn’t stand you up because there was something wrong with you—I stood you up because something happened and it took priority and  _ it had nothing to do with you!” _

“Well, if that’s the case, then why didn’t you call?” Sabrina huffed. “Or text me? I sent you a dozen messages!”

“My phone was broken,” Nick said. “And I—”

“—Sorry,” Melvin interrupted, ducking in around the corner once more. Sabrina hadn’t even realized he’d disappeared. “Would this be a bad time to tell you I’m taking my lunch break?”

Between Sabrina’s, “Please leave!” and Nick’s, “I would like it very much if you fucked off right now, thank you,” it was a miracle that Melvin didn’t collide with the shelf behind him on his way out.

His interruption drew a long silence between them.

Sabrina sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. She really should’ve done this with a clearer mind, but sometimes her legs just took her places and her mouth just spoke.

“It’s not an excuse,” Nick defended, his tone tinged with a hint of irritation and something else. Nerves? She couldn’t tell, but when she looked up again, Nick was staring at her intently, a seriousness to his dark eyes. “I’m sorry, Sabrina—I’m  _ so  _ sorry, but it truly had nothing to do with you. There was a family emergency that I had to take care of and—” 

He paused to grasp at a handful of curls and leaned toward his palm as though he were considering whether or not he could elaborate. He sighed and chose to go on. “My mom had an accident and I dropped my phone on the pavement when I carried her out toward the ambulance. I lost track of time in the panic of it all, and I’m  _ sorry.” _

Something soft fluttered against her ribcage—a pang of pain, as gentle as a moth’s wing. She shut her slightly agape mouth and took a step toward him. 

Sabrina had a sudden, crushing, realization that she may have been, just a tad bit, too tough on Nick.

“Nicholas…”

He didn’t stop. “—And I tried to call you on Dorcas’ phone, but fuck, it was late and by then, I’m sure you were well beyond pissed at me.”

A memory flashed through her mind. She remembered ignoring a random number. She remembered she’d shut her phone off entirely at some point because she wanted to avoid it all.

If she had just answered.

Sabrina swallowed. Her throat felt unbearably dry.

“...Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I tried to!” Nick said, louder this time. He wasn’t yelling, his voice was barely above its normal volume, but she still flinched. “You avoided me all day, Sabrina. And when I finally caught you at your locker, you told me to go to hell! You didn’t  _ want _ to talk to me.”

Sabrina stared at him, silently. She recalled the Monday after their missed movie-date and how she had intentionally stayed clear of Nick for as long as possible. She had skipped her usual stop at her locker that morning, choosing instead to borrow her necessary book from Roz. She took her lunch elsewhere instead of her usual spot on the track. Sabrina had even skipped their shared theater class that day to sit in the library, because she had been afraid to face him after his rejection.

More so, she had been afraid of his reasoning. That was it, she had thought. She’d come off too strong, too Sabrina-like, and it had scared him away. Or, he had simply gotten his share of it and had decided he’d had enough.  _ Sorry, Spellman—it’s just not working out, _ she had imagined him saying, and so she had decided to not to speak to him at all.

Then, he had punched Billy in the face at some point in the day, and Sabrina had heard about it, thanks to the sheer speed at which gossip traveled through the high-school, and she had been slapped in the face with yet another realization of just how little she knew Nick Scratch. Violence, she’d never thought he’d resort to that, but he had surprised her yet again.

Sabrina remembered he had cornered her at her locker that day and she had panicked and hurriedly gotten rid of him, pushing him away before he got the chance to utter more than a couple of words. She had been afraid of what he would say, how he would embarrass her in front of her peers, so she did it first. She turned her back on him.

Nick had not sought her out after that, and for Sabrina, it had only served to further prove her point.

“You had a hand in our sabotage too, Sabrina—admit it.”

A chill traveled up her spine. She stayed quiet for awhile, watching him, before she murmured, “...I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” Nick asked. “Because I—because I went after Billy? Sabrina, I would’ve never done that to you—”

“No,” Sabrina cut him off. “I was scared to face you because I thought you would tell me what I didn’t want to hear—that you’d gotten what you’d wanted from me and you didn’t see any reason to continue trying at an actual relationship. I thought you were going to push me away, so I did it first.”

“Sabrina, did you think that I…” She avoided his gaze. “Did you think that I  _ only _ wanted to sleep with you?”

Sabrina stared at him.

“Sabrina…”

“What?” she asked, her voice holding a slightly sharp tone to it. “Was I  _ supposed _ to think something else? You barely opened up to me, _ about anything!  _ I hardly knew you. Anytime I tried to even talk to you about anything that was even remotely personal, you would shut me away!”

“I don’t like talking about myself.”

“Yeah, I get that!” Sabrina replied. “But then how did you expect me to understand you at all if you never gave me anything to work with! I mean—how else was I meant to read the situation? We had sex, I asked you to essentially commit to dating me, and then you blew me off— _ excuse me _ for assuming that all you wanted from me was sex.” 

“I’m sorry,” Nick said, his tone soft. “But I really meant it when I said you weren’t just someone I slept with. I wanted you in other ways too, I just...I wasn’t ready to open up entirely.”

“Okay,” Sabrina said, reining in her emotions in an effort to calm herself down. 

“I was...I wanted to talk to you later, too. But things went downhill from there and I got caught up in other things,” Nick said a few seconds later.

“You hit Billy,” Sabrina said with a nod. “You got suspended, thrown off the football team…” She could continue, but for his sake, she didn’t. She felt that Nick probably didn’t need a reminder of all the horrible ways his senior year had gone down in history.

“You started dating Harry,” Nick added on, Sabrina didn’t bother to correct him like she had in the past. “You killed your track meets. You ran for Prom Queen. You held WICCA meetings and argued with Principal Hawthorne whenever you could.” He gave her a small wistful smile. Sabrina noticed that it was still crooked. “You looked so happy. I couldn’t interfere.”

Sabrina’s heart dropped painfully. He had watched her from afar, even then, even after she had sworn him off.

She stared at him long and hard, tracing over his features now that she could allow herself to truly look at him. The angles of his face had sharpened in a pleasant way and the once semi-wild curls had been structured into something a bit more mature. He looked wiser, a little more experienced. Sabrina wondered about him—where he’d been, what he’d done, who he was now.

She instead settled on a question that had been on her mind as of recent. “Why did you do it?” Sabrina asked inquisitively. “Why’d you get into a fight with the coach’s son? You had to know what it would do for you...” 

Nick stepped closer to her and the warmth that radiated off of him was intoxicating. She shook suddenly and gazed up at him, finding his deep brown eyes, warm but a little guarded. The tips of his fingers grazed her arm so gently she thought she might’ve imagined it. She held her breath. “You’re shivering,” he pointed out, avoiding her question. “I’ll get you that towel.”

He moved away from her, his shadow disappearing around the corner, and Sabrina finally exhaled.

When she turned her head to glance out the window, she noticed the sun had come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really nervous about this chapter. I don't write confrontations well, so sorry if things are muddled and/or not nice. 
> 
> Anyway, we know who Amalia is now. She's mom! Most of you guessed it anyway I'm sure. (she'll be more important later). And Nick messed up in some regard, but it was really Sabrina who, in the end, pushed him away to preserve her own feelings. Her plans are never good plans, as we've seen. I hope it served as some character whiplash since we felt bad for her last chapter, but as Nick said, she was responsible for their demise too. 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought! I hope the flow wasn't too bad! I'm scared to post this!!


	8. cherry danishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me start this off by saying high school students are very dramatic and Sabrina was very much a dumb high school student and so was Nick.

*

_t h e n_

Sabrina Spellman was ignoring him.

That Monday morning, after slipping away from his sisters at the front of the school, Nick had made a bee-line for her locker. She, farm-boy, and the other two members of their group often rode to school together and since their shared homeroom was just down the hall from Sabrina’s locker, they often stopped there to chat before the first bell rang. 

She wasn’t there, but Harvey Kinkle was, and his expression hardened the second he caught sight of Nick. That was nothing new. Nick was well aware of Harvey’s interest in Sabrina even if she appeared to not notice, he just wasn’t all that intimidated by a guy who hoarded tartan plaid like it was gold. 

“Scratch.”

“Harry,” Nick greeted. “Have you seen Sabrina?”

Harvey’s mouth fixed into a straight rigid line, whether over the incorrect name or his inquiry into Sabrina, Nick wasn’t sure. “She’s not going to talk to you, dude.” He stuck his sketchbook beneath his arm and his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket in what Nick assumed was his way of appearing threatening. _Yikes,_ Nick thought, imagining a very angry golden retriever. “You should just leave her alone.”

“Okay, thanks for the help, farm-boy,” Nick replied flatly and then turned to leave. “Your advice is the worst, as usual.”

Lunch period it was, then, Nick had decided. He would find her in her usual spot on the track and explain, while sparing the more gruesome details, as to why he had missed their date. Then, he swore, he would make sure that their _actual_ first date was far more remarkable than just a visit to the movies.

Everything would be fine with Sabrina. At least, he had hoped.

Except, the hope waned as the day progressed.

Lunch came and went. Sabrina was nowhere to be seen. 

That left him trudging into theater class, on a mission, eyes scanning the classroom for her head of pale hair. She always showed up early, and yet, her seat remained untouched. Rosalind Walker, who normally sat on Sabrina’s other side, glared at him with a heat harsh enough to burn down the entirety of Baxter High.

Nick didn’t think it was smart to bother her the way he had Harvey.

The last period of the day was a free period for him and the remainder of the football team. On most days, they hit the weight room for a workout before they headed out for their afterschool practice, and while Nick generally enjoyed the extra time reserved specifically for blowing off steam, he found he had no desire to be there. 

He sat on the bench in the locker room, slipping into a black t-shirt and feeling pitiful when laughter sounded behind him.

“Scratch!” Billy said, slapping him on the shoulder as he made his way over to his locker. Carl Tapper followed behind him as though he were on a leash. Nick exhaled a long sigh and readied himself. There was a solid total of two brain-cells between the pair of them and it was a rarity if both were ever active at the same time.

“What’s up?” Carl asked, leaning against the locker beside Billy, arms crossed over his chest, eyes on Nick. “You look like someone shit in your shoes.”

Billy was working out of his own shirt when he piped up again. “Nick’s been a little bitch all day. Apparently Sabrina’s been ignoring him.” When Nick glared over at him, he continued. “Saw you stop at her locker like four times today, dude.”

“Are you serious?” Carl asked, erupting into laughter. He dropped onto the bench beside Nick, slinging an arm around his shoulders and giving him a rough shake. “Sabrina _Spellman?”_

Billy turned, now wearing a fresh work-out shirt and laughing too. “That’s what I said, man. That’s the wrong girl to put all your attention on. She’s an ‘Untouchable’, Nick, you know what that means, right?”

“She doesn’t put out,” Carl said.

“Unless you know what you’re doing,” Billy continued, turning back around to duck into his locker for something else. “She might not want it now, but there are ways around that. Bet I could get under her skirt—”

A fire flared up somewhere deep in Nick’s chest, swirling hot and angry, and for a second, his mind went entirely blank. He stood, shaking Carl’s arm off his shoulder.

“—she just needs to be loosened up a little,” Billy was rambling, head still halfway in his locker, when Nick came up behind him, grabbed him roughly by the back of his shirt, and spun him around. Billy’s back hit the locker and the flicker of fear on his face was quickly snuffed out by Nick’s fist. 

Billy bled like a fountain and fell to his knees, clutching his nose desperately. Behind him, the locker had dented just slightly but Nick felt no remorse.

Wordlessly, he walked over to where his bag was, slung it over his shoulder, and left, the rest of the team standing dazed and unmoving. The last thing he heard before the door swung closed behind him was Carl Tapper yelling, “what the fuck!”

He walked to the office, his jaw tense and his stomach churning with disgust. His knuckles stung and yet all Nick wanted to do was turn back around and hit him again. It took him by surprise—that he could feel that way about someone. Nick didn’t think he’d ever gotten this angry before. 

He forced himself to breathe evenly, to gather his thoughts before he made matters worse and actually _did_ do something he would regret.

Nick approached the office calmly and lifted his bloodied hand for the woman at the front desk to see. “I think I broke Billy Marlin’s nose,” he announced. “He probably needs help.”

*

Sabrina shoved the last of her books into her locker with more force than necessary. Her heart raced in her chest, fingers fumbling with her bag as she recalled the last hour of the school day and how it had knocked the air out of her.

Lizzie had spun in her seat midway through their history class, alerting both Roz and her. “Did you hear?” she asked, clutching her phone. “Nick hit Billy in the face. What a psycho!”

Then, she had flashed her phone for the both of them to view and spread across the bright screen was a bloodied and bruised up image of Billy Marlin.

She cringed, both at the image and the way her very first thought had been: _is Nick okay?_

“Spellman?”

Sabrina nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. She shut her locker quickly, spotting Nick on the other side. Her eyes fumbled about, to the dried blood still on his knuckles, up and over his body as though checking for injuries, and finally, to his face, where she saw him staring back at her through a worried expression.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

Her body went tense and the sudden burst of nerves fluttered up through her stomach like a firework. She couldn’t stop her mouth as it spewed the first line of thought that had come to her mind. “Why, so you can punch me in the face too?” 

Judging by the way his shoulders suddenly hiked up, Sabrina knew he hadn’t been expecting that. But what had he expected? For her to drag him into her bed again just so he could once more fill her head with false promises? 

No, she knew what he wanted, and she wouldn’t give him a chance to do it.

“Leave me alone,” she said, coldly and spun on her heel. Nick Scratch was not going to sever ties with her in that charming, eloquent way of his. She would do it first, in that wild and fiery way of _hers._

He followed, pushing his way through the hallway of densely packed students. _“Please,”_ he pressed and she felt his grip on her wrist. It was soft, gentle, a way to stop her from walking away, but it was enough to send a cold shiver down her spine. “Just let me—”

“No!” Sabrina snapped, regretting it almost immediately when the surrounding students started to look in their direction. She tore her hand away from him. “I don’t want to talk to you. I _get_ it, so just leave.”

“Sabrina—” 

She glared at him. His expression was unreadable, arms falling at his sides in defeat. Sabrina twisted the blade even further, just in case he thought of welding against her. “Go to hell, Nick.” 

That time, when she stomped off down the hallway, Nick didn't dare follow.

*

_n o w_

Sabrina gently swung open the door to the cafe’s pantry, gazing up at Hilda’s bountiful collection—swollen jars of thick honey, sweet dark molasses, glistening compotes and jams of varying fruit, even marmalades dotted with flecks of citrus peel. Her mouth watered.

She reached up on her tip-toes and plucked a jar of honey off of the slightly bowed shelf near the top. It cast a pale amber glow over her hands as she carefully carried it over to where Hilda stood opening a small carton of fresh cream.

At the counter, she strained briefly while attempting to open the jar. There was a soft ‘pop’ followed by a short hiss of air when she finally managed to break the seal. She exhaled in relief. Hilda poured a hefty amount of cream into her bowl and Sabrina followed with a large spoonful of the sweet amber substance, plopping it in and letting the remainder drizzle off the spoon in slow ribbons. 

She stood back seconds later, sticking the spoon into her mouth as Hilda worked to beat the cream into a fluffy texture, savoring the sweetness the way a small child did a lollipop. Across the expanse of the kitchen’s large counter sat multiple custard tarts. The tops of them were lined with plump blackberries and dusted with just enough powdered sugar to make them sparkle. Soon enough, they’d be finished off with a dollop of the honeyed whipped cream and set off to the front.

Sabrina’s eyes wandered over to the large clock on the wall. She was starting to get a little nervous.

“Auntie?” she asked, rocking softly back and forth on heels. “Why do you do everything the way you do—without shortcuts?” Never once had Hilda tainted her baked goods with whipped cream from a can, store-bought jam, or dough that hadn’t been rolled by her hand. The items she couldn’t craft came from places she had carefully evaluated for quality—such as the honey, which came from a bee-keeper just outside of Greendale that she personally drove to on the weekends. There was a reason as to why _Sweets by Hilda_ was the only cafe of its kind in Greendale. No one else could keep up.

Hilda paused her mixer, momentarily checking the peaks on her cream. She nodded once to confirm they were to her liking before she detached the bowl from the stand. “Well, love-bug, we’ve got a very important role in the community,” she said in her usual chipper tone. 

Sabrina tilted her head softly. They offered great coffee and even greater desserts, but they were just that—a cafe, a bakery. Someplace to enjoy, but not usually a necessity.

“We aren’t just a place for a sweet treat, my dear.” Hilda gave her a wink as though reading her mind. “Whether we’re baking a cake for a little old lady’s 90th birthday, or serving a stale businessman his daily cup of joe and a croissant—it’s important to treat every visit like a special occasion because you just never know the effect it’ll have on someone’s day,” Hilda continued, dotting a small bit of left-over whipped cream onto the tip of her niece’s nose before she deposited the bowl into the sink. “Remember all those times I whipped up your favorite blueberry pancakes whenever you had a big day in front of you? It made a difference, didn’t it?”

Sabrina smiled. “It always helped,” she agreed. “You made them for me whenever auntie Zelda and I argued, too.”

Hilda clucked out a little laugh. “Well, that’s because she’d always have to comment on how much syrup you’d use, and I knew it would get you two talking again.”

“It worked. Even if we just picked up arguing again,” Sabrina said, absentmindedly checking the time once more. Nine a.m. It was time to act. She chucked her spoon into the sink and headed for the double doors that led to the front of the cafe.

“Where are you off to?” Hilda asked.

“I’m going to see if they need help with drinks,” she lied and pushed through the doors.

Her eyes landed at the register and, to her delight, there he stood.

Billy Marlin.

Since she’d come back, she’d figured out that he worked for his mother’s company in Riverdale and stopped in every Tuesday at nine a.m. on the dot to grab drinks for everyone at the office.

Never once did she think she would actually be happy to see him, but she was on a mission for answers and he had them. For a second, that little voice—the one that oddly sounded _a lot_ like Ambrose—popped up in her head to remind her that she was meddling again. 

She squashed it down. 

It wasn’t meddling. It was simply chatting. Billy wouldn’t have to answer her if he didn’t want to. She would let him go, the same way she had Nick when he changed the subject.

Smoothly, she intervened and started on the drinks Billy had ordered. 

“Hi, Billy,” Sabrina greeted as she began slipping all of his drinks into a cup-carrier. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Billy replied wearily. He didn’t seem like the morning type. “Yourself?”

“I’m alright.” Sabrina paused briefly, fingers still grasping the cup-carrier. She stared at him for a moment, trying not to wince at the slightly crooked angle of his nose. Yeah, Nick had definitely not been gentle. “Can I ask you something?”

He shrugged. “I don’t want to sign up for any rewards program if that’s what it is.”

Sabrina swallowed down her groan and tried not to say anything smart back. Instead, she just exhaled and said, “no, that’s not it.”

“Okay then, what?” he asked.

She thought it over for a minute, trying to figure out the nicest way to go forward without sounding like an entire asshole, though she supposed there was no right way to say: _Hey, so remember that time Nick permanently turned you into a Picasso painting? I’m here to ask why._

She could feel Ambrose watching her from afar, so she picked up her pace. 

“What happened between you and Nick?” Sabrina asked.

Billy visibly cringed. “We got into a fight,” he replied curtly and reached to take his drinks. Sabrina moved them back an inch or two.

“Was it really a fight, though? I mean, it kinda sounded like you got—” _your ass handed to you on a silver platter lined with all the trimmings of a grand feast and the promise of dessert lingering very closely behind_ , Sabrina wanted to say but refrained when she saw Billy’s eyes narrow. “You know, that part doesn’t really matter. I’m just wondering: what for?” She paused to swallow. “Was it really over a girl like everyone said?”

Billy was tense. “It wasn’t over a girl so much as it was _about_ a girl.” As rigid as he appeared, there was a hint of shock there too. Sabrina wondered why. “I thought Scratch would’ve told you by now.”

“Nick and I don’t really talk anymore,” Sabrina said, realizing she had just used the shortened version of his name for the first time in a while.

He let out a quick exhale, a sort of short chuckle. “Really? Huh, after all that…”

Sabrina blinked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Billy stared back at her as if she was denser than he remembered. She didn’t have time to feel offended. “Sabrina, Nick hit me in the face because I said something vulgar about _you._ He didn’t even hesitate. Or warn me, for that matter.”

Her head tilted slightly, face glazing over with even more bafflement. _“Me?”_

“Yes, _you,”_ Billy said, sounding a bit annoyed with all of her questioning. “Now can I please go? I’m going to be late for work.”

Sabrina stuck the drinks out toward him. “Yeah, sorry—um, have a nice day.” He gave her a nod and left in a hurry.

She stood there for a second, eyebrows knitted, trying to take it all in. A thick ribbon of guilt washed over her--less about the situation with Billy but more so for the fact that she had shoved Nick so far out of her bubble that he hadn't even had a chance to explain his side. She had silently judged him from afar for the remainder of the year, labeling as just another stupidly violent male who had tricked her into thinking he was actually a good person. When people said things about him, she didn't correct them. And when Nick had willingly pulled himself away from everyone, she had never bothered to ask why. 

She felt sick.

Ambrose crept up beside her, spooking her.

“What was that all about?” he asked. 

Sabrina shrugged, shaking the nerves from her body. While Ambrose would likely come to discover her foundings later, she didn't feel any desire to discuss it now. “I was curious about something,” she answered. He raised a brow. “Don’t look at me like that, we were just talking.”

Ambrose held up his hands defensively. “I didn’t say anything. I just know, from one of my sources, that that Marlin kid isn’t the best character to run with.”

She rolled her eyes. “Would that source of yours be Luke the Cop, by any chance?” she asked. He just shrugged in response, a little smirk on his lips. “I didn’t know you guys still talked.”

“The break-up was mutual.”

_“Mutual?”_ Sabrina asked in disbelief, finding something else to anchor on to while she silently came to terms with her discovery. “Ambrose, he threw eggs at your window every night for a week straight until Zelda finally drove him off. In her car!”

Ambrose didn’t look the slightest bit bashful. “Was that what that racket was about?”

While he went on, she had a thought.

“Whatever,” Sabrina said, shaking her head and letting her attention fall from her cousin as she reached for a paper bag and a napkin. She slid open the dessert case with her elbow and pulled out a cherry danish, plopping it into the bag seconds later. “I would love to stick around and dissect your exes but I’m going to head out for a second.”

She was already halfway into the lobby before Ambrose realized what was happening.

“You can’t leave, we’re about to hit peak hour!”

Sabrina shrugged. “You’ll be fine. I only work here part-time, remember?”

“Yes!” Ambrose shouted back. “And _this_ is the part of the time you’re meant to be here!”

She pushed open the door with her back, the little bell chiming above her, and smiled at Ambrose. “I’ll be back soon.” His groan was cut off by the door shutting behind her.

The warmth of the sun washed over her and she had to squint to see across the street. Through her sun-bleached vision, she saw Nick seated on the steps to the bookstore, his attention stolen by the paperback in his hand. He looked blissfully unaware of the world around him. 

“Hi,” Sabrina said when she was just feet away from him, hands on her hips, the light summer wind breezing over her cafe-issued apron.

Nick looked surprised to see her. “Sabrina, hey.”

“I brought you this,” she said, cutting to the chase. He shut his book but kept his thumb propped in between the pages to mark his spot. His eyes flickered to the paper bag and then back up to meet hers and then his expression dissolved into confusion. Sabrina shook it gently, motioning for him to take it. “I didn’t poison it. It’s just a cherry danish.”

Nick appeared taken aback. Sabrina looked slightly offended.

“What, did you think I _would_ poison it?” she asked.

“No,” Nick answered, a little smile finding his lips before he took the bag. “It’s just...those are my favorite.” He paused for a second, the look of genuine shock still lingering on his face before he looked up at her again. “And frankly, I’m not sure what’s happening.”

Sabrina shrugged. “I know. My aunt Hilda told me a while ago,” she answered like it was nothing. She dropped down beside him on the step, keeping a friendly distance. “To be honest? I’m not sure what’s happening either, but I’m hoping for a truce. And...I think I need to apologize, too.”

He was back to looking confused. Sabrina was really putting him through it. “I’m lost Spellman.”

“I talked to Billy today,” she continued. He nodded slowly. “He told me why you hit him.” Nick cringed in the same manner that Billy had, as though it had stirred up something undesirable, but now she understood that it was on her behalf. “And while I can take care of myself and certainly don’t need a guy to stand up for me, I think it was pretty valiant of you to do that. I don’t know what he said—I’m not sure I want to—but knowing Billy it was probably gross.”

Nick fidgeted with the edge of the paper-bag, shrugging. "It's fine," he said. "I didn't tell you the other day when you asked because I didn't want you to feel like I was blaming you for it—or trying to make you feel guilty."

Her expression softened. She pushed away the desire to touch his arm, to comfort him. “I’m sorry that I didn’t stand up for you. And I’m sorry that I wrote you off so quickly after everything happened.”

“There isn’t anything to apologize for,” Nick said. “None of that was your fault—certainly not what Billy said.”

“I know, but your reputation was ruined because of it. I could've fought for it. I'm good at fighting.”

Nick shrugged. “That wasn’t your fault either. Or your responsibility. And besides, it was high-school, Sabrina. I hardly care what came of it and none of it matters now, anyway.”

“You missed Prom,” she pushed, reminiscing over her own memories of the event. It had been one of the best nights of her life, spent with her very best friends. Nick had been banned from it. “You didn’t get to walk at Graduation. You missed Europe!”

“I didn’t care about Prom. I still got my diploma. And I went to Europe on my own later.” He gave her a genuine smile. “Sabrina, I’m serious. It doesn’t matter. Billy is an asshole and I probably won’t ever regret it, but it’s all in the past.”

“Still,” She exhaled. “I’m sorry for pushing you away, for not letting you talk. And also, for the way I’ve been treating you since I’ve been here.”

Nick chuckled softly. It was a familiar sort of sound that made her chest flutter. “You’ve been avoiding me, that’s all.”

“I talked pretty badly about you to other people,” Sabrina admitted sheepishly. “I also pretended not to know you at the bookstore that day I came in.” 

“And I threw up in front of you after getting shit-face drunk,” Nick reminded her. “I think we’re even.”

Her stomach dropped at the memory. She had nearly forgotten about that, but now that he had brought it up, her mind went back to that night. Seeing him in the back seat, looking pitiful, declaring in a drunken slur that he had never gotten over her—Sabrina shivered despite the heat outside. 

“So, a truce,” she continued, shoving the thought away again, choosing not to linger on the velvet sound of his voice that night or the way it had been laced with a peculiar hint of sadness.

He didn’t seem to notice her internal struggle and instead, gave her another polite smile and nod.

“Great,” Sabrina said, standing up all too quickly. She swooped her hand softly through the air as if directing a literal scene change. “We can now proceed to stop hating each other.”

“I never hated you,” Nick clarified. 

She pointed a finger gun at him, suddenly feeling just a bit too awkward to be there. “Right—well you enjoy that danish and I am going to go back to work before my cousin comes looking to murder me.” 

“I think he’s already on his way,” Nick said, pointing toward the cafe where Ambrose was hanging out of the door, waving his arms dramatically and shouting something at her. 

“I should just run home. He could never catch up to me,” Sabrina mused, giving him a gentle wave. “Bye, Nick.”

He bid her a farewell in the form of a nod and she skipped off, in a hurry to get back to the cafe where she knew her cousin would lecture her about running away seconds before a rush. The wind was nice, fluttering through her hair, making her feel lighter than she had in awhile, and she thought of cherry danishes. A little tart, plenty sweet, and—she hoped—maybe just as good as blueberry pancakes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRAMA. So much could've been avoided if they just TALKED.
> 
> But they do a little bit--just a tiny bit--and Sabrina is finally coming to terms with the fact that, yes, it was kinda her fault too that she never got closure with Nick--or, well, an actual relationship. And Nick? He's just out there fighting toxic masculinity and not caring about the repercussions of hitting people in the face. Billy is very gross and I'm really sorry if reading that disgusted you. I toned it down a bit from what it was because I figured it was enough to get the point across without having to be like, very douche-bag explicit. 
> 
> Also, Sabrina remembered that he likes those cherry danishes! Spoiler alert: it was a VERY big deal for him.
> 
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think! See you next time <3


	9. you were the moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! SO SO sorry that this is what? Like almost two weeks later? My routine's off track, I've spent more time than I am willing to admit playing the new Animal Crossing, and spent a great deal of the last few days arguing over the official rules of Uno with my boyfriend. Quarantine life is rough and I hope everyone is staying safe! 
> 
> In this chapter, past Nick finds himself in a pickle and present Sabrina gets her parking spot taken.

*

_t h e n_

The air in the school counselor’s office was dry and stale smelling, the walls the same bland beige as the rest of Baxter High, dotted sporadically with the typical cookie-cutter motivational posters one would expect to find at any other school. Nick let his gaze trail over them absentmindedly. _Baxter High, Soaring like a Raven!—_ one of them read.

 _Well, I'm here, Sabrina,_ Nick thought grimly. _I'm in Hell._

The entire room reminded him of the tiny therapist’s office he’d been forced into shortly after the death of his parents. Even as long ago as it had been, he could recall it with great clarity—the large leather-trimmed sofa that reminded him too much of the back-seat of his father’s car, the way he could never hear anything over the thundering of his heartbeat so he would just stay quiet and nod because his mother had always said he should be polite.

Every time Amalia would come inside to gather him, the therapist would tell her the same thing: _He doesn’t talk._

“Mr. Scratch?” Mrs. Carlson questioned, snapping Nick back to reality. He looked across her shiny wooden desk to see her staring back at him with concern. “How are you feeling?”

He sat up and lied. “Fine.”

Nick was technically fine.

He’d spent the greater portion of his week-long suspension with his nose buried in a book, locked away in his room or otherwise perusing through Cassius’ personal collection in the secured room at the back of the store, a place where he used to hide away in after he outgrew the tiny corner underneath the cash register. A place where girls with ‘fairy-hair’ wouldn’t even venture in and drag him out.

When Monday morning swung around again, Nick wasn’t going to lie—he was relieved to return. Not only was he entirely too bored with all the extra free time he’d suddenly procured, but there was a glimmer of hope shining in his chest at the thought that he would get to see Sabrina again. He'd still believed there was a chance that the two of them could talk now that there had been some time since their last encounter.

However, that sparkle quickly diminished to dust when he rounded the corner on his way to the office and nearly ran into her, only to find that she maneuvered around him quickly and continued on her way down the hallway, eyes down, stopping only when she spotted Harvey Kinkle. While she had pretended not to see Nick at all, Harvey had been the exact opposite, staring at him through a heavy-set brow and an odd aura of cockiness that Nick had never really seen on him before.

For a brief moment, Nick had stood there, confused. But all had become clear to him when Sabrina grasped Harvey by the collar and pulled him down to kiss her, leaving Nick stunned beyond belief. His stomach dropped to his knees and in a humorous moment of jealousy, he thought how stupid and unjust that looked—Sabrina stretching to reach him, Harvey craning down in a seemingly painful manner. Why should they have to strain to kiss each other when Nick was right there, and he was the perfect height for her to kiss whenever she wanted!

He imagined some of the lingering jealously must’ve leaked out in his expression because Mrs. Carlson cleared her throat to gather his attention again. Nick shook his head, intent to leave all memories of that morning on the back burner for now. He had a meeting with the counselor that needed sorting first and Nick needed to be able to funnel all his focus into proving that he wasn’t a delinquent.

“Well, we’re glad to have you back. And the good news is that Coach Marlin isn’t pressing charges,” Mrs. Carlson clarified with a warm smile. “He understands that, sometimes, boys are just boys and some rough-housing is bound to happen.”

Rough-housing, sure, Nick thought with a scoff.

She shifted to sit up a bit straighter. “However, we do take assault quite seriously around here, so it’s important that we discuss your actions and the subsequent results we can take to bring you back on track. You’ve served your punishment in the form of a suspension, and Coach Marlin believes you are an incredibly skilled asset to the team, so your position won’t be revoked if—”

“If?” Nick asked, entertaining the idea. He hadn’t really imagined he would be returning to the team with a round of applause, or even, _at all._ He assumed hitting the Captain in the face would’ve naturally gotten him kicked off. Nick wasn’t sure he even _wanted_ to go back. Sabrina had been right—he didn’t care for football.

“In order to stay on the team, as well as continue to enjoy the perks of your senior year—prom, the upcoming senior trip, and so forth—the administration has decided that you will follow up the incident with a course of anger management.”

Nick nodded. He wasn’t angry and that sounded like a pain, but he didn’t see a reason to throw a fit. “Okay.”

“Principal Hawthorne has also requested that you deliver a written apology to both Mr. Marlin and his father.”

Nick shook his head and very defiantly declared, “I’m not apologizing.”

Mrs. Carlson sighed and clasped her hands before her. “Nicholas, it’s a simple request, considering that Coach Marlin was generous enough to waive any charges and has been adamant in allowing you to remain on the team—”

“I don’t care about the team,” Nick answered. “And I’m not apologizing because I’m not sorry—that would be lying and I’m pretty sure lying also isn’t meritable.”

She went to speak, but Nick cut her off.

“Besides,” he continued. “I’m not the only one that should be under your microscope. Yeah, I punched him and I’m owning up to that, but Billy said some degrading stuff about a female student and that shouldn’t really be overlooked.”

“Okay,” Mrs. Carlson said slowly, as though unaware. “Well, we weren’t made known of that. If you can supply the name of the individual and perhaps, we can speak to her and sort out—”

 _“No,”_ Nick declared firmly. “I’m not involving her in this when she had nothing to do with it outside of the disgusting things Billy said about her. She doesn’t deserve to be prodded about it or be put on blast and embarrassed.” He wasn’t sure Sabrina even knew of it and he wasn’t going to pull her into it if he could help it. However, he didn’t think Billy’s vile comments were something to be taken lightly.

“Coach Marlin hasn’t mentioned anything of the sort to us, nor have any of the other members of the team. Unfortunately, if all that we have to go off of is an accusation coming from someone who assaulted him, and with this information coming a week after the incident, I’m not certain we could proceed…”

“I’m not accusing him falsely,” Nick said in disbelief. “Why would I have hit him if I didn’t have a reason? Yeah, I get it, I shouldn’t have resorted to violence but frankly, he deserved it! He’s a dirtbag.”

She sighed and shook her head, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. Finally, she sat back and looked at him. “Even so, at this age, Nicholas, boys make certain remarks that are often harmless pokes—”

 _“Really?”_ Nick asked, feeling himself grow more and more frustrated. “Because I’m a boy and I’ve never joked about violating someone. Is that really an excuse? Don’t you think it should be taken seriously?”

Mrs. Carlson waved both of her hands through the air as though suggesting they move on. “Right. I will speak to Principal Hawthorne regarding the matter and see if it can be investigated further, but for now, Nicholas, we are discussing _your_ actions. Before you leave today, I’ll give you your anger management schedule, but right now, I want to make sure you take the written apology seriously. It would benefit you, too, to take responsibility and moved past it in a positive manner.”

Nick crossed his arms and proceeded to seethe in silent anger. He wasn’t writing a fucking apology letter and that was final.

Mrs. Carlson continued, but this time, her voice softened just a touch, taking on a hint of something Nick had become very familiar with as an orphaned boy. Pity. Nick hated that look—that _voice_ —more than anything. “Listen, Nicholas. It’s not uncommon for boys raised without fathers to display aggression—”

He stood suddenly, the chair scraping loudly across the wooden floor. Nick had heard _that_ before too—people’s comments on the way he had been raised. Amalia, a single ‘mother’ with four orphaned kids under her roof, kids from all ends of Greendale, no husband—no father to put his foot down when they got too rowdy, so they claimed. It was stereotypical and entirely wrong, Nick thought, to assume that he was messed up just because he lacked a masculine figure in his life. 

“Fuck your apology,” he snapped. “Fuck anger management and whatever else you want me to do. I’m not doing any of it.” Nick went for the door, not wanting to linger in the office a single second longer. He swung the door open and turned to look at her once more. “I might not have a dad, but Billy Marlin does and he’s _still_ an asshole, so what's his excuse?”

He slammed the door shut.

*

Sabrina held the bundle of thick fabric out for Roz and held her breath.

“Here,” she exhaled, motioning for her to take it. Nick’s sweatshirt. Once it was out of her grasp, she might maybe the emotions that still lingered around him would be too. Sabrina didn’t want to think of him anymore, didn’t want to remember the way he’d looked at her when she’d slipped on that very sweatshirt—like she was real, solid, _his._

“You sure you don’t want to just throw it out?” Roz asked. “Maybe burn it?”

She shook her head. “No. I want him to know it’s over.” **_I_** _want to know it’s over,_ she thought, envisioning someone else wearing it instead of her. Her stomach dropped, but she reminded herself that she was now with Harvey.

Harvey, who had bandaged her up and held her when she was moping over someone else. Harvey, who, up until recently, Sabrina had not even known had feelings for her. But it made sense now. Harvey was who she was _meant_ to be with. He was her best friend, and that had to guarantee a stronger relationship. Sabrina knew _everything_ about Harvey. Not at all like Nick, who, even after stripping down in front of her, was still a walking mystery.

Roz nodded. “In that case, I’ll make sure he gets it.”

“Thank you,” Sabrina said. In most cases, she wouldn’t send Roz to do her bidding, but she couldn’t look at him. She didn’t _want_ to. His stupid brown eyes couldn’t get to her this way.

Roz slung the sweatshirt over her arm and Sabrina forced herself to tear her gaze away from it. “Come one,” she said, and they started down the hallway, Sabrina now gripping her notebook to her chest to keep her hands from fidgeting.

They made it to the front of the school, toward their shared class, when Roz stopped her softly.

Up ahead, Nick was exiting the counselor’s office in a mood that did not seem even remotely ‘okay’. He looked pissed, swinging open his nearby locker aggressively. Sabrina had never seen him so angry. Nick was always calm and collected. It was what she liked about him.

“Causing trouble again, probably,” Roz whispered. “Let’s get this over with.” She went on ahead, calling out to him authoritatively. Sabrina stayed back, peeking just around the corner. 

Nick looked up as she approached him. 

“Rosalind—”

“Here,” Roz said, shoving the garment toward him. Nick’s features fell even further upon realizing what the item was. He took it from her slowly, held it like it was something foreign, and didn’t say anything until Roz turned on her heel to walk away.

“Wait,” he called after her. “Could you please just...Could you pass something on to Sabrina for me?”

Roz sighed. “We both know that’s not a good idea.” Nick looked ready to say something else, but she cut him off. “You’re not the right kind of guy for her and I won’t let you hurt her. You really should just let it go, Nicholas. She’s with Harvey now and she’s very happy.” 

And with that, she waltzed back down the hallway, leaving Nick standing dumbfounded.

“Come on, Brina,” Roz said. “Forget about him.”

Sabrina made to follow, but it was hard to tear her eyes away from him. She gave herself one last moment to fully see him and then, she promised, she wouldn’t spare so much a glance in his direction again. When she saw him shove the sweatshirt into the bottom of his locker, her heart clenched.

He shut the locker seconds later and then just stood there, back to her, palm pressed to door. Then, he leaned forward, forehead thunking softly against the metal of the locker, and she swore she saw his shoulders shake just slightly.

Sabrina pulled herself away, straightening herself out before she did something she regretted. Harvey was open to her, no side of him hidden, bare as daylight, but Nick was like the moon, and she supposed there was a whole side of him she was never meant to see.

It was probably better that way.

*

_n o w_

Sabrina grasped the wheel of the crusty old vehicle like it would somehow propel her through time and space if she tried hard enough. 

Of all the mornings to be running late.

A few days prior, Cee had surprised Hilda with a two-day getaway to a couples’ resort in the mountains. Her aunt had hesitated at first, full of worry over what the cafe’s stability would be in her absence, given that she was the kitchen’s primary caretaker. Ambrose had already been booked with his own business outside of Greendale—something regarding the few other establishments he remotely operated—and had declared himself unavailable. 

That only left Sabrina, since Zelda didn’t partake in that part of the family business—she _absolutely would not_ be caught dead in an apron of any sort unless it was one reserved for the privacy of the morgue.

Sabrina had insisted that it would be a piece of cake—literally—to run the cafe alone for a day. Her aunt certainly deserved a couple of days away from the hassle of running a business and, if anything, Sabrina at least knew she _probably_ wouldn’t burn the place down. That had been a legitimate concern.

The previous day, she had helped Hilda prep as many desserts and pastries as humanly possible, so that all Sabrina would have to do in the morning was pop the raw pastries into the oven to finish up, and display the remaining cold items in the display as necessary. 

“You’re kidding,” Sabrina sighed and slowed down for a red light at a completely empty intersection.

While she tapped her fingers impatiently along the steering wheel, she replayed that morning in her mind.

Salem had chosen to dart out of the house as she was locking up and had propelled himself toward the forest at an ungodly speed. Of course, she had run right after him. While coyotes along the outskirts of Greendale were rare, she didn’t want to risk coming home to find her cat as a clean skeleton either way.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the light changed and she hit the gas.

As soon as she pulled onto Greendale’s small Main Street, she sighed a bit in relief. If she rushed, she would still be able to catch up and her aunt would be none the wiser. Though the roads that morning had been nearly empty, the parking spots near the business were practically full as people arrived for their early morning shifts, rushing to get their stores prepped for opening.

She slowed down as she approached her usual parking spot just three ticks down from the café, a sudden wave of disappointment washing over her like a tidal wave.

A shiny black car sat in her spot, the windows tinted dark, exuding a sort of prestige that felt off in a small town like Greendale. She hadn’t felt that offended by a vehicle since the night she had been shoved into Prudence’s very threatening Range Rover.

“Not this, too,” Sabrina exhaled, irritated. For a second, she just sat there and stared—glared—at the car as though maybe someone was inside and they would see her and understand that she was not happy with them, but soon enough, the car behind her was laying on their horn impatiently and Sabrina was forced to move.

On an impulse, she swerved aggressively toward a yellow striped zone directly in front of the cafe, shoving Marge haphazardly into position.

Seconds later, she hauled herself out of the vehicle, grabbing her bag and racing toward the front door, disregarding the nearby ‘Loading Zone - No Parking’ sign as a mere suggestion.

*

Sabrina wiped away at the thin sheen of sweat along her forehead. The kitchen was hot, obviously, but she also felt like she’d run an entire marathon in the number of laps she’d run around the cafe that day. It was nearing the end of her very long shift and she was ready to head out, jump into a nice bath at home, and relax with a cup of tea and some trash TV.

Once all was well with the bakery side of the cafe, and the front end was clear as could be, she shrugged out of her apron and hung it on the proper hook, grabbed her things from where she’d left them, and headed out. 

She locked the door, spun around, and stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted someone near her car.

“Luke!” Sabrina squeaked out in faux cheer. “Hi.”

He greeted her flatly, not bothering to look up. “Hello, Sabrina.”

The pad of yellow in his hands alerted her immediately. “You’re giving me a parking ticket?” she asked, immediately rushing over to where he was in hopes that she could intervene, her red bag thrashing against her side. 

Luke nodded in an almost proud manner, turning toward her just slightly, allowing the badge pinned to his chest to twinkle in the fading sunlight. “Of course, I am. What did you expect when you parked in a loading zone?” he asked, shifting the pen in between his fingers so he could point up at the sign that Sabrina had purposely chosen to ignore earlier. She gulped.

“Well, you just don’t understand the morning that I’ve had,” she began, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“Enlighten me,” Luke said, tucking the pad of tickets into his pocket but holding steadfast on to the one meant for her. Sabrina narrowed her eyes at him, watching his every move like a hawk just in case he tried to slip it onto her car. 

“I was running late this morning! My cat got loose, and I had to chase him, and there was no one else to open the cafe so I had to rush over—”

“So, you’re telling me you were purposely speeding too?”

“What? No!” she huffed. “I mean, you can’t _prove_ that. Anyway, someone parked in my usual spot and I had no choice. The closest spot was down the block!”

Luke stared at her. “Okay, well the spots around here don’t belong to anyone in particular—”

“Yes, but that’s MY spot. I’ve been parking there since I got my car back! That guy with the souped-up toy car had no right.”

He shoved the parking ticket in her direction. “I’m sorry, Sabrina, but this spot is clearly marked as a no parking zone. I’m going to have to give you the ticket. It’s the law—you know, that thing you studied at that fancy school of yours?”

Sabrina huffed and snatched the ticket out of his hand. “I have a valid excuse,” she murmured. 

“And I have a job to do.” He gave her a nod and headed off toward his cruiser. She made a face at him as he walked away.

“Your job is pointless, Luke. Where are you off next? To bust a gang of squirrels for loitering? You know, I heard Ms. Davis grows catnip in her backyard and sells it to the neighborhood cats, you may want to go over there and check it out.” 

“Funny,” Luke drawled, the tone of his voice indicating that he thought the opposite. “Goodbye, Sabrina.” He raised his hand to wave at her before he ducked away into his vehicle and sped off down the street, leaving her to glare at the ticket.

“In trouble with the police?” she heard someone say behind her and she jumped slightly, spooked. Sabrina spun around quickly to find Nick standing a couple of feet away, holding a take-out bag from Cee’s and watching Luke’s car as he disappeared down the street. He smirked when she noticed him.

Sabrina crinkled up the parking ticket and shoved it into her bag, entertaining the idea of not paying it even though she knew she would have to. Her conscience wouldn’t let her break the law to that degree. “Luke gave me a parking ticket,” she grumbled.

Nick glanced at her car, to the sign, and then back to her. “Loading zone,” he confirmed with a nod of understanding.

“Wow, maybe you should be a cop too,” she sassed. “Who knew this town was full of do-gooders? What happened to your bad boy persona?”

“I never asked for that persona,” Nick replied in a light-hearted manner. “I abide by traffic laws. That makes me a good boy.”

Sabrina sighed and shook her head. “Whatever, you big nerd. It wasn’t really my fault. The blame is split between Salem, my rogue cat, and the driver of that small-penis-mobile over there, who felt it was just to take my spot this morning.” Her finger jabbed toward the fancy black car that had severely wronged her.

Both of Nick’s eyebrows went up as though suddenly amused. “I don’t know, Spellman. Maybe that had a good reason to park there like maybe all the other spots were taken before they got here.”

Sabrina shot him a sharp look. “Whose side are you on, Nick?” She turned back to glare at the car, wondering if she would catch a glimpse of the owner. “I bet they’re some big corporate businessman here to scope out the town for land potential. I mean, really? Who drives a car like that in _Greendale?”_

“Perhaps a sensible person,” Nick said. “Someone who enjoys the added safety perks that a tin can simply cannot offer.”

Sabrina glanced at Marge and then back at him, quickly realizing he was making a dig at her. “Hey!”

Nick opened his mouth to say something, but a ping echoed in his pocket. He dug out his phone and then glanced up at her, donning his playful smirk again. “I’ve got to run. Sorry about the parking ticket, Spellman.” His eyes lingered over her car again. “And drive safe,” he added on.

“Sure,” Sabrina replied. He headed off down the sidewalk, digging his keys out of his pocket as he went. She made for her own car, too, dumping her bag into the passenger side before looking up once more.

To her horror, Nick Scratch was entering the small-penis-mobile, shooting her another smile just before he disappeared behind the tinted dashboard. Sabrina felt her insides shrivel up and die from embarrassment.

She scrambled into her car, shut the door, and considered driving out of Greendale right then and there.

*

Sabrina didn’t leave Greendale. Instead, she looked for solace at the mortuary.

She wondered if her punishment for being cruel toward Nick would come in the form of endless embarrassment on her behalf. How many times would she make a fool of herself in front of him before any sort of higher power took pity on her?

She wandered past the living room where Zelda was reclined back in her favorite chair watching one of her dramas and shouted out a quick greeting before departing for the kitchen. There, she proceeded to plug in the waffle maker, extracting all the necessary ingredients from the pantry. It was as good a night as ever to wallow away in a river of maple syrup.

The front door swung open and Ambrose appeared in the kitchen archway just as she was pouring flour into the bowl, dusting the front of her shirt with it in a startle.

He looked at suspiciously. “What the Hell are you doing? Is that Hilda’s waffle-maker?”

Sabrina just shrugged, as though it were a normal thing to make an entire batch of waffles at nearly nine p.m. She didn’t think it was so weird given that Hilda whipped up extravagant dinners nearly every weeknight for no reason at all. “Want some?” she asked. “Auntie Hilda didn’t get blueberries at the market, but we’ve got chocolate chips.”

“I’m good on waffles, thank you,” Ambrose answered, walking over to her hesitantly as if approaching a wild doe. “Have you been drinking? Or was your day perhaps just that rough?”

She frowned and grabbed her whisk with a little too much flair, dunking it into the mixture. “No, my day was fantastic—except for the part where I got a parking ticket from your ex-boyfriend.”

“Luke gave you a ticket? What for?” Ambrose asked, pulling out a stool and reaching for a handful of the chocolate chips she’d drawn from the pantry, his interest suddenly piqued.

“I bet because the break-up was not mutual like you said,” she said, pointing at him with the whisk and accidentally sending droplets of batter flying over the counter, narrowly avoiding Ambrose who cowered away from it.

From his angled perch on the stool, he raised a brow. “Try again. Be honest.”

She sighed. “Fine. It was because I parked in a loading zone. A whole parking ticket is a little extreme, in my opinion. Whatever happened to the good old days of giving someone a warning first?”

“Well, the sign plastered nearby is meant to serve as a warning, I think,” Ambrose replied cheekily. Sabrina rolled her eyes.

“What’s worse is that Nick showed up at the tail-end of my discussion with Luke,” she continued. “And I may or may have not indirectly inferred that he’s lacking—you know…” she motioned toward her own crotch, mindful of her aunt in the nearby room.

Ambrose looked ready to break into laughter. “I’m sorry, _what?”_ He bit the inside of his cheek at her dramatic display. “Are you talking about his _dick,_ Sabrina?”

“Ambrose!” She blushed a bright red and pretended to be preoccupied with the mixing bowl in front of her. _“Yes,_ but I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know the overly fancy car belonged to _him,”_ she replied a more hushed tone.

“I’m missing a large chunk of this story but that’s not at all what I care about right now,” Ambrose said and then proceeded to ask, “Is it true?”

She blinked. “Is what true?”

“Is Nick lacking? I mean, you _would_ know, right?”

Her jaw dropped and her blush grew. Sabrina wanted to jump out of the window. “Oh my God, Ambrose! I don’t know, I didn’t _stare_ at it!” she squeaked. It was partially the truth. While she hadn’t full on stared at Nick _there_ during their engagements, she certainly had felt it, so no, she didn’t think he was lacking but it was _not_ something she was going to discuss with her cousin.

Ambrose broke out into a helpless fit of laughter. “I’m messing, cous’” he said teasingly, a few seconds later after calming himself down. “Actually, I’m glad you’re home. I wanted to ask you something.”

“Does it involve the size of Harvey’s junk because I’m going to cut you off right here if so, Ambrose,” Sabrina shot back.

“Ew—never,” he replied with a cringe and for a second, Sabrina was slightly offended. Ambrose had never quite understood Harvey’s charm. “I was going to ask if you were down the play the field again.”

She stared back at him through a veil of confusion. “Huh?”

“You know—the dating field,” Ambrose continued. “I just met with an associate of mine from one of the neighboring towns. He’s a great guy and he’s moving here soon. I mentioned my wonderful cousin and how she’s also just returned as well, and I also may have brought up that she’s single—”

 _“Ambrose,”_ Sabrina grumbled. “You’re trying to pawn me off.”

He held up a hand. “I’m not pawning you off, cousin. That would be incredibly misogynistic of me and Prudence would have my head. I’m simply saying you could meet him. I’ve invited him out for drinks at Dorian’s tonight. Prudence, too. I thought you could come along, meet him, see what you think, all within the comfort of a group setting.”

Sabrina pondered the idea, apprehensive. “Like…a double date? I don’t know, Ambrose, I don’t even know the guy.”

“Not a double date. Just a group encounter. He’s a good guy—nothing less for my sweet cousin who means the entire world to me. Plus, I am the unofficial matchmaker of Greendale and I’ve yet to see any of the relationships I’ve helped to establish fall apart.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “You are not a matchmaker.”

“I set Zelda up with Marie.” Sabrina remembered the past year’s Summer Solstice festival in the town gardens where Ambrose had spent an exorbitant amount of time getting the pair acquainted. They were still together, but Sabrina didn’t think that had anything to do with her cousin. Ambrose seemed to sense her doubt and went forth with another claim. “And if it weren’t for me throwing up all over Cee at the diner that one time, auntie Hilda would’ve never gone over to talk to him.”

Sabrina also recalled that memory. They’d gone out, the pair of them and their aunt Hilda, for a lunch at Dr. Cerberus’. Ambrose, a young boy, had had too much of his milkshake too quickly and had spewed it all over Cee the second he returned to check-up on them. Hilda had gone after him, apologetic and wanting to help. Since then, the two of them had been inseparable.

She considered it a little longer and then sighed, ultimately deciding that it wouldn’t hurt. And if she met someone great, like Ambrose claimed his friend was, then perhaps it would be worth it. She wasn’t against the idea of dating again, so long as it was nothing too serious.

“You know what, I do need a distraction from today. Sure—I guess I’m down to meet your friend,” she agreed.

Ambrose smiled and unplugged the smoking waffle maker from the wall, appearing proud. “Fantastic, now run up and change. We’ll be leaving in a bit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna let you know right now -- Ambrose's friend is NOT Nick buuuuuut, this is a nabrina fic so obviously I'm working SOMETHING in. Trust me! Next chapter is a BIG one and I will hopefully get that one out in time!
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter! I really love reading everyone's comments, they make my whole life!


	10. that was what i wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are we doing? Hope everyone is okay! This is a hefty chapter, but we've got some angst, some sweetness, and a guy named Eric.

*

_t h e n_

The cold came and went. Winter winds broke and gave way to the gentle lull of Spring. Earth nurtured and revived itself and Sabrina moved on.

She had a plethora of matters to be concerned with—her track meets, her college applications, WICCA, the aggressive need to fight Principal Hawthorne every chance she got.

And her boyfriend, Harvey.

Sweet, adorable Harvey who sensed her anxiety and showed up five minutes early to every date, who drove her to the edge of Greendale in his handed-down truck and sketched portraits of her against the sun. When Harvey said he loved her, she believed him.

But then, there were times when she couldn’t help herself, when she looked at Nick and he looked at her, and she could catch the exact moment his body started up and then immediately cranked to a harsh stop, like a car with nowhere to go but a cement wall. Stalling, waiting. For what, she wasn’t certain.

His ordeal with Billy had long since faded into the shadows of Baxter High, and with it, Nick seemed to go too. There was hot new gossip, as always, and Nick became a ghost wandering the halls, skipping steps around her, darting around corners to avoid running into her. The school suddenly felt smaller, but she had learned to dance around him too.

At the end of the year, Roz’s cheer friend threw a party to celebrate the completion of their senior year. It was a big event, nearly the entire senior class crammed into a tiny home at the center of Greendale.

She hadn’t expected Nick to show up, not really, but he was there, tucked away in the corner, enjoying the company of a pretty brunette while Sabrina made a show of kissing Harvey in the middle of the make-shift dance floor. In a stupid, teenage fit of pettiness, she had hoped he would notice. _See how happy I am? I didn’t need you, after all._

Sometime later, she disappeared into the kitchen to refill her drink, the party raging in the background, hollers and hoots mixed with trashy music pulsating through the home of someone’s poor, oblivious parents. She didn’t hear Nick when he snuck in and halted in the doorway, his jacket on, appearing ready to leave despite it still being early in the evening.

At first, she’d tried to ignore him, hoped he would get the memo and leave. But after avoiding him for so long, his charged stare had begun to burn a welt into her back. So, she turned. He was holding himself steady against the wall, a hand planted firmly against the tacky wallpaper, eyes hazy with whatever he had poured into his stomach that evening.

“I’ll give you it, if you let me.”

She clutched her solo cup, melding her fingers into the flimsy plastic until the contents nearly spilled over. “Give me what, Nicholas?” she snapped. He couldn’t give her anything. Certainly not her virginity back. That had been tucked away in the back pocket of those pants she’d stripped off him that day. A shiny little badge with her name on it, likely tossed out with the trash the very next morning.

Not her heart either, not that piece she slipped into his palm in the bookstore when they were kids—when she saw him for the first time. She thought he looked lonely back then, but now she understood that Nick was lonely because he wanted to be.

“Whatever it is that you wanted. From me.”

She exhaled sharply. It was like that with him. Always some sort of riddle she was supposed to know how to figure out because he couldn’t just say what he meant. Alcohol was supposed to loosen the mind, but it just made him more cryptic.

“I don’t want anything from you.”

For what seemed like an eternity, it was just the two of them, suspended in some alternate reality far from the rest of the party, squinting at each other through the poorly lit air in the kitchen. They stayed that way until Harvey’s voice rang from somewhere deep in the house, calling for her. Sweet, adorable Harvey, always worried.

Nick tapped his open palm against the doorframe. “Duty calls,” he said and then he paused, pursed his lips. She did, too. “Does he know how to touch you? Do you feel anything?”

“Not your problem,” she said, breezing past him without another glance.

“You used to be.”

When she garnered the courage to finally turn around, to brazenly go forth and say her piece and end it there, Nick had left, the front door swinging shut softly behind him. That time, it was for good. She didn’t see him in Greendale anymore.

She didn’t miss him, not really, but she did wonder.

*

_n o w_

A knock sounded at her door, echoing through the old wood and shattering her focus. Sabrina looked up from where she hunched over her vanity, the dark shade of red lipstick in her hand jolting but fortunately not smearing. Ambrose stood in her doorway, hugging the frame.

“Are you ready?” he asked while she tucked away the scattered bits of lingering make-up and stood up properly.

Sabrina paused and quirked a brow, eyes catching along the scattered appearance of his clothing. He wore loose trousers, a silky burnt-orange top with the top few buttons casually undone, and a long scarf that draped over his shoulders in a very Ambrose-like fashion. _Wow,_ Sabrina thought. Wow, indeed.

Ambrose blinked. “What?”

“Nothing,” she answered with a hint of humor in her voice. “Just—is that what you’re wearing. Like, _out?”_

Ambrose threw the other end of his scarf over his shoulder and scoffed, a sharp sound meant to show her that he was one, offended, and two, disappointed. “It’s called style, cousin. You and seventies schoolgirl aesthetic couldn’t relate.”

Sabrina’s mouth fell open, and her eyes dropped to her own outfit, sweeping over the short pleather skirt and wine-colored top. Little silver studs lined the asymmetrical edge of her skirt, and her top was cropped just above the high waistline, threatening just a hint of skin. She didn’t think she looked like a schoolgirl at all.

Ambrose rolled his eyes and, as though reading her mind, continued to unleash his arsenal upon her. “Please,” he said. “A little touch of black leather doesn’t spice up the fact that you look ready for a pep rally, love.” She watched as he headed for her closet and swung open the door. “Where’s that little red dress? The one with the low back and the scoop neck.”

“Ambrose,” Sabrina warned. _“This_ is what I’m wearing.”

“Fine. But, here,” he said, tossing a pair of heels in her direction. “At least wear those.”

“I was going to,” she grumbled. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Prudence. You sound mean.”

Ambrose looked at her. She stared back. There was a second of silence before they both started to laugh.

“Heavens, you’re right,” Ambrose said, pressing his palm to his forehead as if checking his own temperature.

*

Walking into Dorian’s was nothing like entering the more rambunctious bar down the street. Here, the atmosphere was more distinguished, soft classical music playing overhead, so gentle it was nearly lost. The lights were dimmed and in place of old tables and rickety chairs were velvet loveseats and elegantly carved tables. Even Dorian Gray, the barkeep, was known for his crisp suits and timely appearance.

Sabrina looked around. The bar wasn’t full, but there were guests scattered about, sipping on their preferred drinks, lost in their own little conversations.

Ambrose stretched his arm above his head, waving at someone from afar. Sabrina spun and saw Prudence, her walk elegant, wearing a little black dress, a long jacket draped delicately around her shoulders, leaving her arms free.

She almost didn’t notice Nick, an inkblot trailing behind Prudence, his hair tousled and his clothing dark. His eyes met hers first, sparking awake.

Sabrina stood aside awkwardly as Ambrose took the time to _greet_ Prudence. Nick appeared beside her and his presence was somehow familiar and uncomfortable all at the same time. She realized she was still embarrassed, as well as a little confused to see him.

“Hi,” she greeted and then paused. “Um, sorry about earlier—”

He bumped her shoulder with his own, so gently that Sabrina nearly hadn’t felt it at all. “It’s fine,” he assured. “Sorry for taking your spot.”

Sabrina offered a small shrug to indicate it was okay. “Ambrose hadn’t mentioned you were coming,” she said, making small talk while her cousin droned on and on about Prudence’s choice in clothing, spinning her slowly.

“Oh,” Nick said, almost sounding disappointed. There was a long pause before he continued. “…Is it weird that I’m here?”

Sabrina smiled and shook her head. “Not at all. We’re okay, right?”

He smiled too, the line of his mouth crooked. “We’re okay.”

“There he is!” Ambrose called out suddenly, jolting Sabrina. She looked ahead, toward the entrance where her cousin had his attention drawn. A man entered, his presence tall and broad. He had chestnut brown hair that he pushed back out of his face as soon as he noticed Ambrose. When he smiled, Sabrina thought he looked very handsome.

He and Ambrose greeted each other warmly, clapping one another the shoulder before he was being drawn over to the remainder of the group. He met Prudence first, then Nick, who offered nothing more than a handshake, and finally, Ambrose set him before Sabrina.

“And this is my lovely cousin, Sabrina,” he introduced. “Sabrina, this is Eric.”

“Hello,” Eric greeted. “It’s a delight to meet you.”

Up close, his eyes were a smoky gray and his gaze was intense. Sabrina found she quite liked it. “Hi,” she breathed, feeling her cheeks flush with warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Eric apologized. “I don’t mean to stare. It’s just that your hair is such a lovely shade. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Oh.” She touched the ends of her hair absentmindedly and smiled. “Thank you.”

They lingered there for a moment before someone cleared their throat.

“I’m getting a drink,” Nick said plainly.

“Right.” Ambrose nodded. “Let’s find a seat, shall we?” He slid an arm around Prudence’s waist and led them toward an empty array of seats near the bar. Sabrina slipped into one of the plush loveseats beside Eric, while Ambrose and Prudence settled for the one next to them. Nick dropped into an armchair opposite of them and Sabrina began to wonder why Ambrose had invited him. Surely, Nick felt uncomfortable, but Ambrose had also been adamant that this wasn’t a double date.

As soon as Dorian made his presence known, Nick looked right at home.

“Good evening,” he greeted. “May I ask what we’re drinking tonight?”

“I’ll take a scotch, please,” Ambrose said. Dorian gave him a polite nod and moved on down the line, taking an order from both Prudence and Eric. Sabrina had settled on a Negroni when Dorian finally tapped Nick on the shoulder.

“Are we leaving the black card at the bar tonight, Nicky?” he asked. Nick slid a black credit card from his wallet and handed it off to Dorian like it was a routine. Sabrina wondered if this was a sort regular for him, but she quickly dropped the thought when she caught herself. It wasn’t her place. “Splendid. Now, will we be having the good-day usual or the bad-day one?”

Nick gave the man before him a rigid look. “Just a bourbon, Gray.”

“Actually, he’ll take a water,” Prudence spoke up before Dorian could.

“That’s funny,” Nick said. “Ignore that, please.”

“Dorian,” Prudence said sweetly. “You’d be wise to listen.”

Dorian gave an amused shrug. “Absolutely, Ms. Night. I’ll have those right out.”

When he left, Nick sat up and looked at Prudence. “What the Hell, Prudence? I didn’t come to a bar to sip water.”

His sister didn’t seem all that bothered. “You did. Remember the night I drove you home? This is pay-back. You, dear brother, will be our designated driver tonight.”

“That’s not fair,” Nick said. “He already took my card.”

“He did, didn’t he? No worries, he can still make use of it,” Prudence assured.

Nick dropped his head against the back of the armchair and left it there. “Evil, despicable, inconsiderate…”

“Oh, _do_ keep going. You know how much I love it,” Prudence purred.

He glared at her. “I bet you do, you soul eater.”

“So, Sabrina,” Erica began, angling himself toward her as the others bickered back and forth, “Ambrose tells me you went to law school?”

Sabrina perked up and smiled. “I did.”

“Have you taken the bar yet?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested. Dorian swung back around and quietly dropped off their drinks and, from the corner of her eye, she caught Nick pouting into his glass. The corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Not yet,” she said, snatching back her attention. “My stay in Greendale is only temporary and I haven’t decided if I’ll remain in the state afterward, so it’ll depend on that. I’ve got until July to decide.”

“Well,” Eric began and offered her a glimmering smile, “we’d be lucky to have you if you decide to stay.”

Sabrina tapped her fingers softly against the side of her drink, pursing her lips while she considered something. “Do you…want to go get a table of our own?”

He looked as though he had been waiting for her to ask.

“Absolutely.”

*

Nick moved his glass about, swirling the water inside. He had to feel amused, despite himself. Dorian had presented his drink with a few ice cubes and a sprig of mint—to make him feel like a big boy, he claimed. Drinking water at a bar was certainly a first, but so was watching Sabrina Spellman talk it up with her date while also simultaneously third-wheeling his sister and Ambrose.

He let his eyes wander back to the table where she sat across from Eric and he had to feel bad for her. Nearly an hour had passed since they’d entered Dorian’s, and while, at first, Sabrina had appeared to be entirely enchanted by her suitor, she now looked downright bored.

“Jealous?” Ambrose asked.

“What?” Nick snapped. He didn’t do jealously, yet he could hear the bitter tone ringing in his own voice.

Ambrose held up his own glass. “Your drink,” he clarified.

“Oh,” Nick said, feeling stupid. “Yes, I’m green with envy.”

“What’s the phrase?” Prudence asked. “Sucks to suck?”

“Not if you know what you’re doing,” Nick commented, earning him an eye-roll Prudence and a snicker from Ambrose.

“Whatever, you harlot,” Prudence said. Her eyes followed Nick’s and she smiled cleverly. “They’re getting along rather nicely, don’t you think?”

Nick looked at his sister like she had suddenly gone mad. “Has your pretty eye make-up made you blind? She’s very clearly uncomfortable. She hasn’t said anything for a while.” The problem was that Eric hadn’t given her a chance. Even now, as Nick observed, he was on a streak, his mouth moving non-stop. It was frightening.

“She’s listening,” Ambrose insisted.

Nick shook his head. “Sabrina loves to talk,” he said. “And she’ll find any way to say what she needs to. If she’s quiet, something’s wrong.”

“Please, how can you be so certain?” Prudence asked, shaking her head.

“Look at her expression,” Nick continued. “That’s the same face she used to make whenever I went over our chemistry lab procedures. She’s already deemed him as the most boring man alive probably. And I agree with her.” Ways away, Sabrina had her lips set in a thin line.

“The two of you were lab-partners in more than one sort of chemistry, it seems,” Ambrose murmured. Nick barely heard him. “I picked him out myself. I know my cousin, Scratch. Trust me. He’s cute.”

“He’s a six, at best,” Nick said.

“He’s not for _you_. He’s for Sabrina.”

“He looks like the sort of guy who passionately collects stamps,” Nick continued, ignoring him. “I bet he wears a matching set of pajamas to bed every night and says stupid some shit like, ‘I’m going in,’ before he goes down on someone.”

Ambrose slipped an arm around Nick’s shoulder and laughed, while Prudence just shook her head. “You’re right about one thing, mate. He does, in fact, have a stamp collection, but we’re still pending on the pajamas.”

“I can’t believe you set your cousin up with a loser,” Nick said.

“Did you have someone else in mind?” Ambrose asked. Nick stood up, shaking his arm off his shoulder. “Going somewhere?”

“You don’t know your cousin at all,” he said as he departed.

“I think I do,” Ambrose assured, his voice a shade too clever.

Prudence eyed him suspiciously. “What are you scheming?” she asked.

*

Eric was thirty. He had two dogs—a little terrier named Spiffy and a German shepherd mix named Spunk. He worked in marketing and volunteered at a church in Riverdale on the weekends. In the summer, he went camping nearly every month and sometimes—if he was feeling naughty—he hiked that up to twice a month. He hated GMOs and grew his own vegetables. On Mondays, he made broccoli cheddar soup and shared it with his neighbor, an elderly woman named Jan. She was to turn eighty in November.

Sabrina could only stare ahead, watch as the life was drained out of her, and hope it would end soon. Every once in a while he would pause, and she would think it was finally over, only for him to take a sip of his drink and start right back up.

Sabrina searched the crowd for her cousin, and she found him laughing along with Prudence and Nick. She couldn’t blame him, not really. Sure, he had been one to introduce her to Eric, but it had been her idea to lead him away from the others. She had intended on getting to know him, and she supposed was getting just that.

When she looked up again, Nick was headed her way, wearing a face of determination. Her demeanor perked at the sight of him, but she held steady as to not appear too excited.

“Oh, Nate, right?” Eric greeted as soon as he was within range.

“I’ll take it,” Nick said with a shrug. Sabrina giggled. It wasn’t often that Nick was on the other end of the wrong-name-game.

Eric didn’t linger long enough for Nick to get another word in before he was talking again. “I was just telling Sabrina about my hobbies.”

“Yes,” Nick said. “Stamps—I’ve heard all about them. Incredibly riveting. I’d love to stick around, so would Sabrina, but she can’t.”

Sabrina stood up. She didn’t need another signal and practically glued herself to Nick’s side.

“Why?” poor, innocent Eric asked.

Nick placed his hands on Sabrina’s shoulders and had already begun guiding her away. She didn’t have much time to focus on the heat that radiated from him or the weight of his fingers over the soft fabric of her shirt, the way the skin beneath seemed to buzz alive. “I need her help,” Nick said. “Very important matters. Dire, even.”

“Where are you going?”

“The bathroom,” Sabrina squeaked out in a flurry of panic. A flicker of confusion flashed briefly across Nick’s face, but he covered it up quickly enough.

Eric, however, looked downright bewildered. “…Together?”

“Yep,” Nick said, squinting at Sabrina. She shrugged. What had he expected her to stay? She wasn’t exactly prepared, and she had spent the last hour having her brain fried over a hot griddle. “I don’t like to go alone.”

Her face went red, the heat pricking at her cheeks like needles. Nick used the opportunity to usher her out of the seating area and down toward the back corridor of the bar, leaving Eric standing stunned.

“Nice,” Nick said. “Real smooth, Spellman.”

“I panicked!” she said, peaking back around the corner. Eric had collected himself and was retreating to where Ambrose and Prudence were. She sighed in relief and turned back around to look at Nick, who appeared amused. “It just came out.”

“You’re lucky I don’t embarrass easy,” he said, and then snapped his chin toward the hallway. “Come on.”

Sabrina followed him, shaking her head. “I don’t understand what went wrong. He seemed nice enough, but he out-talked even me. I don’t know what Ambrose was thinking.”

“He seemed to think he’d done a good job,” Nick said with a soft huff of laughter. He stopped short near a narrow staircase that was nested into a wall, causing her to nearly collide with his back.

Sabrina looked up as he began to ascend the stairs. “Where are we going?”

“We’re breaking you out. They’ll see you if you leave through the front, and Dorian keeps the back exit locked. Thankfully, I know another way we can escape.”

“We?”

Nick glanced back at her over his shoulder. A curl had fallen in his face, casting a shadow over his forehead. “You think I want to stick around and drink water?”

Sabrina giggled. “I thought you looked rather disappointed,” she said. “But weren’t you their ride home tonight?” At the top of the stairwell was a small door that led to the roof. Nick held it open for her, letting her slip out first.

The air was cool, and it enveloped her like a tidal wave. Even in early summer, the dense air rolled down from the mountains like a plume of smoke, flooding the valley beneath. It was nowhere near as cold as the harsh winds that rattled the town during the winter season, but it was a nice, invigorating burst that nipped at her exposed skin.

She let her head dropped back, casting her eyes above, to the black looming sky. It was a clear night, not a single cloud inside, and the stars were poking out like little diamonds on a sheet of chiffon.

“I’m just down the street,” Nick said. He stopped beside her, and she glanced at him, fighting the desire to sweep back the hair in his face. Once, she had freely run her fingers through his head of ebony, pulled at his curls. Nick hadn’t liked it when people touched his hair, but he had let her. He cleared his throat and Sabrina snapped her eyes away, feeling like an intruder. “Prudence will call, yell at me, and I’ll come back. Or, they can call a cab.”

Sabrina laughed at the image of Prudence in a cab. It didn’t seem fitting.

“It seems we’re trapped,” she said once she remembered why they were there. She couldn’t make out a visible exit, and she certainly didn’t think Nick had intended for them to jump off the roof, though after Eric, she didn’t think she’d mind if he had.

He gave her a clever little smirk and wandered off, back toward the door where they’d exited. Behind the wall, against the back of the roof, a little metal stairwell appeared. It led down into the alleyway. “Magic,” Nick said. “Careful—it’s steep so please don’t fall.”

Sabrina stepped over the threshold hesitantly. The metal creaked beneath her feet but held sturdy as she began to descend. “I never knew about this,” she said. “I guess there are parts of this town that are still new to me.”

“Found out about it recently, myself,” Nick said. “I got lost on my way to the bathroom one night. The door locks from the inside and there’s no cell service up here. I didn’t notice the stairway down until the next morning.” He paused and looked at her sheepishly. “I might’ve been drunk.”

“Wow,” Sabrina marveled, dropping down to the ground with a soft thud. He followed.

“Let Greendale put a spell on you—literally,” Nick said, in what she assumed was an attempt to quote the town’s slogan. She started to laugh, drawing an odd look from him. “That’s nice, you’re laughing at me.”

_“Cast.”_

“Cast what?” Nick asked, looking utterly perplexed.

“It’s, ‘let Greendale _cast_ a spell on you,’” Sabrina corrected, her laugh trailing off in a series of small giggles.

He considered her for a second and then shook his head. “No, I’m pretty sure I’m right,” he said and turned to take the alley out. She trailed after him and soon enough, they spilled out into the sidewalk in front of Dorian’s, squinting under the yellow light of the streetlamps.

“You’re not, Nick. It’s simple—one _casts_ a spell.”

Nick grinned. “Yeah, you’re a wizard or something? Explain to me then why the song says, ‘I put a spell on you.’”

“I don’t know, but it’s got nothing to do with the town. I’m not wrong. I drove by the Greendale border sign not long ago and I very vividly remember what it said.”

“Nope—you’re wrong.”

“Prove it, then,” she challenged, stopping in front of him, hands on her hips. He looked down at her, the light from the lamps having turned his eyes a dark shade of caramel.

Nick licked his lip, a quick action she nearly missed. “I can do a lot of things, Spellman, mostly with my tongue, but I can’t conjure the Greendale welcome sign for us to view.”

“No, dummy, but _we_ can go _to_ the sign,” Sabrina said, intentionally breezing over his blatant innuendo. Somehow, that was the most familiar thing about Nick, and as odd as it was, it made her feel comfortable. It meant the ice between them was thawing enough that there was room for a joke or two.

Nick considered her for some time before he finally asked, “Seriously?”

“Yes. Unless you want to admit I’m right—which I am.”

“Let’s go,” Nick decided, then he paused and looked at her mischievously. “Unless my car’s not good enough for you? I’d hate for you to feel stunted.”

Sabrina blushed and hurried off ahead of him. “Obviously I didn’t know that was your car or else I wouldn’t have said what I had,” she grumbled and heard him chuckle in response.

Really, though, she _should’ve_ known. As they approached his car, she realized it fit him to a tee. Dark, sleek, and entirely Nick. She slipped into the passenger side once it was unlocked, and that rich scent of his ticked her nose, reminding her of how, not long ago, she wouldn’t have dared sit this close to him. It reminded her of other things, too, things that made her chest feel warm.

Nick threw his leather jacket into the backseat before he took his spot beside her and started up the engine. It rumbled, soft and subtle, stirring her.

It was quiet in the car as Nick pulled away from the curb, his attention drawn away from her, hers still on him when she surprised herself by suddenly asking, “Where did you go?” That night, when he left for good, like a tremor into the night. She hadn't gone after him, hadn’t even spared him a second thought, but now, she had to know.

She surprised Nick, too, because he glanced in the rearview mirror and then at her.

“Huh?” he asked, not quite on the same wavelength. “I’m right here, Sabrina.”

“I mean, when you left Greendale. Where did you go?”

Nick shrugged like it wasn’t important, slipping into a reasonable speed down the main street, his arm on the center console between them like a barrier. “I went to school.”

“Where at?” she asked.

“Berkeley,” Nick said. “I studied plenty of things, but I majored in business.”

“In California? That’s across the country, Nick, what made you want to go out there?” Sabrina asked, shocked.

“What made _you_ want to leave Greendale?” Nick asked, shifting the topic back on her, something he was known to do in the past when she started to get too invasive.

“Freedom, mostly. I wanted to see what the world outside of Greendale could offer.” And she wasn’t done, not by a long shot. There was so much to be explored still.

Nick kept his eyes on the road. “Some want freedom, others want an escape,” he answered vaguely.

“Mysterious,” Sabrina said. “You haven’t changed at all, Nicholas Scratch.”

He took a moment to look at her, the passing streetlights painting him pale golden hues, the gaze of his eyes deeply infinite. The boy in the past looked at her the same way, like she was a series of odds and ends he couldn’t quite sort through. He cast his eyes back to the street and she saw the corner of his lips curl up slightly. “Neither have you, Sabrina Spellman.”

She didn’t know where to look, so she set her eyes out the passenger window, at the darkened skies and the approaching wilderness, the trees as they blurred into their own shadows and became indistinguishable from one another. She thought they weren’t too different from the boy—the man—beside her.

They settled into quiet again, neither knowing what to do with the other. Soon enough, the old wooden sign that marked Greendale’s border shined like a beacon. He slowed to a stop behind it.

“Wait,” Nick said, her eagerness clearly showing. His arm was held out, stopping her from bolting out of the car to prove him wrong like he must’ve known she’d wanted to. Her eyes traced the vein that ran along his arm until she was looking directly at him, probably in wonder. “What are the stakes?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“If we have a bet, there have to be stakes, Spellman.”

She thought about it for a second, and then she smiled mischievously. “One milkshake a week for the next four weeks, redeemable at the winner’s choosing.”

“Deal,” Nick said. He was halfway out of the car when she grabbed his attention that time, a hand on his wrist. He looked surprised when she leaned toward him, but she felt clever.

“My favorite flavor is mint-chocolate, chocolate chips on top instead of the cherry—Cee will know,” she declared cheekily and then ran off ahead of him. In front of the sign, she plastered on the biggest smile, bouncing in place. She pointed out each word, reading it off like a game-show host.

But Nick didn’t look upset, or even disappointed, by his own defeat. He just stood back, letting her cheer her victory aloud to the empty street like the strange girl he probably thought she was, a smile on his face.

She took a photo of his smile once—she remembered it in sudden, bursting clarity. It was still there on that old phone hers, shoved somewhere deep into the storage of her bedroom to gather dust. She never deleted it, and if she pulled it out, she would bet a dozen milkshakes that he looked just as he did now. Unmasked. Just Nick.

_That was it—that was what I wanted._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even if Nick lost, he's guaranteed to see Sabrina four more times now, so did he really lose? Also Eric, yikes. He's not coming back, but it was funny to add him in this chapter. And Ambrose, he's smart right? He's got this.
> 
> Thanks for reading. As always, it means a lot. Please leave drop a comment, kudo, or whatever if you liked it! This is one of the only forms of socialization I'm getting right now LOL. Seriously though, thanks for everything! It means the world!


	11. if it should be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Just a note, we're done with the 'then' flashbacks for the most part. I haven't decided if I'll edit in some more in the future scenes, but as of right now, last chapter was it! They went their separate ways, but present Nabrina is slowly making their way back to one another. This is the last 'now' that will start the chapter unless of course, we switch timelines again.

*

_n o w_

When Sabrina returned home that evening after being dropped off by Nick, she hadn’t expected to run into Ambrose. Her intentions had been to slip in as quietly as she could, avoid her aunt Zelda, and slip into the kitchen to gather her nightly chamomile tea, which she planned to enjoy in her bath. She assumed her cousin would’ve still been at Dorian’s, or off somewhere with Prudence.

She only made it a foot into the kitchen when her Ambrose’s voice caused her to jump.

He was seated at the kitchen island, balancing precariously on one of the old wobbly stools, a fresh cup of tea sitting piping hot in front of him. “Ah, there you are. I’d wondered if you planned to come home tonight,” he said.

Sabrina rolled her eyes and joined him at the island, placing her palms down on the cool counter.

“I don’t know what you had in mind for Eric and me, but I can assure you that it isn’t going to work. I don’t want to see him a second time,” she stated.

“Don’t worry, cousin. He was well aware of the fact after you ran out with Nicholas.” Ambrose gave her a clever smirk. “Where did the two of you run off to?”

“None of your business,” Sabrina answered, though a little smile did threaten to make an appearance. To be honest, not much had happened between her and Nick after she’d won their bet, but they’d chatted a little longer and then he’d driven her home. The ride back to the mortuary had been comfortable and she would even brave to say that Nick had been in a pretty good mood, despite losing.

And Sabrina—she felt happy with the way the night had turned. She wouldn’t tell Ambrose that.

Instead, she swiped his mug out from under his nose and took a swig, decided she liked it, and headed for the hallway. Ambrose sat dumb-founded, his hand positioned as though still holding his tea.

“You owe me!” Sabrina called from somewhere near the stairwell.

Ambrose, having found his way back to reality, leaned dangerously on his stool in an attempt to see her. “I feel as though I’ve already made up for it, cousin,” he said smugly. “Shall I change Nick’s information in my phone to ‘potential in-law?’”

The rumbling of her feet sounded as she raced up the stairs, eager to get away.

*

Sabrina bounded across the street, shoes clicking against the striped pavement, a bright yellow package grasped safely in her hands. A drink carrier sat precariously atop the box, each cup stamped with Hilda’s daisy logo. She was careful not to brush shoulders with any of the other early risers for fear that she would drop coffee and icing all over the crosswalk.

Across the way, she halted before the glass door of Cassius’ Books and, ignoring the ‘closed’ sign. She managed to wedge a foot in and swing it open. The bell chimed above her as she entered. She peered around the tower in her hands, trying to get a glimpse of the interior.

“Hello?” she called.

It was less than a second later that the items in her hand were being lifted. Nick appeared before her, bright-eyed and awake. "Good morning," he greeted.

“Hi,” she said. “I brought coffee.”

“Is that a yellow box from Hilda’s? That can only mean one thing…” a voice piped up from the center of the store. Sabrina glanced over and smiled even brighter upon seeing Theo. He was nestled in line with the entrance, a small round table in front of him and stacks of books lying on the floor beside him.

It was the day of his book release and Theo had insisted he be the one to stop in and set up the display. He and Nick had shown up before daybreak to prep the store.

“Cupcakes,” Sabrina confirmed. “Hilda and I baked them fresh for your big day.”

Theo grinned. “I knew Hilda was my favorite Spellman for a reason.”

“Did you miss the part where I mentioned I helped?” Sabrina teased.

Theo ignored her and snuck over as Nick set the box of cupcakes and coffees down beside the register. He lifted the lid of the box carefully and peeked in. “Red velvet—my favorite!”

Sabrina giggled. She swatted Theo’s hand away when he went to grab a cupcake. “Hang on. My auntie sent breakfast with me, too. I’m supposed to make sure no one touches the cupcakes until they’ve had a sandwich.” From her bag, she withdrew a paper-bag and set it beside the box of cupcakes.

“Your aunt is heaven-sent,” Theo said, taking a sandwich.

“I’ve got your coffee, too. A dry cappuccino with a shot of caramel,” Sabrina added, slipping one of the drinks from the carrier and handing it off to him. Theo took it, thanked her, and went back to his post. “Maple oat-milk latte for me,” she murmured, setting hers aside. The last drink, she lifted and held out toward Nick. “And one super boring, incredibly bland, Americano.”

Nick smirked. “Thank you."

“You’re welcome, but perhaps in the future, you’ll let me make you a proper drink. Spice it up. Trust me, it’ll change your life.” She pressed the lid of her own drink against her lips and took a tentative sip of the hot liquid.

Nick winked. “I’m plenty spicy in other ways, Spellman,” he joked and then wandered off behind the register. Sabrina nearly choked on her drink, her cheeks flushing as she held back a cough.

“It’s nice to see you two getting along,” Theo said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. He then added, “And flirting.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “You might not remember, but one of Nick’s only forms of communication is flirting, Theo.”

Nick, ducked under the register searching for something, finally popped up again and shrugged. “She’s not wrong,” he said, sounding amused.

Over the course of the next hour or so, they ate their breakfast and sipped at their coffees. Eventually, Theo was satisfied with the presentation he’d set up, and the store was set to open. He dropped into a chair nearby, where he would spend the next few hours meeting and talking to any of his readers that stopped by. Theo had garnered plenty of peers through his active social presence online and, having spent enough time promoting his release, there were at least a few people traveling in from the nearby towns to see him. His father, one of his biggest supporters, had also dropped by.

The boy from the gym—Robin, as Sabrina recalled—had snuck in as well and the pair of them sat together, chatting, Robin very shyly asking Theo to sign his very own copy. Sabrina had wandered off down the aisles to allow them a bit of alone-time, her eyes sweeping over the various titles that were packed neatly into the shelves when the bell above the door chimed once more.

Only this time, the voice that echoed through the small interior was one she recognized right away.

“Look who I found at the Riverdale train station,” it said, and Sabrina peered around the corner to spot Harvey in the entryway, a beaming Roz standing beside him. Before it even fully registered, she was racing for her friend and nearly toppling her through the doorway with the force of her hug. Theo’s small frame piled up against them seconds later and it was a miracle that Roz didn’t collapse.

“Roz! What are you doing here?” Sabrina squeaked once the group stepped back long enough for everyone involved to gather their composure. She was tearing up. It had been a long time since she’d last seen her best friend in person.

“Yeah,” Theo said, seeming just as happy as Sabrina. “You weren’t supposed to be in town until next week.”

“I wasn’t going to miss your book release day, Theo!” Roz answered, smiling brightly. She wore a yellow sundress that seemed to illuminate the dated interior of the bookstore. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“I knew all along, but I had to keep it a secret,” Harvey proudly said, making both Sabrina and Theo laugh.

Theo smacked his arm playfully. “You big dope, I don’t know how you managed that. You’re the worst at keeping secrets.”

“I made him,” Roz said, and then she pulled Theo into another hug, the pair of them bouncing in place. “Now, I know you’re very busy, but please tell me you’ll be able to slide in signing my copy, too?”

“Of course!” Theo replied and dragged Roz away, Harvey and Sabrina following.

“How are you, Harvey?” Sabrina asked, clutching his arm in a friendly manner. Even after their break-up, the air between them was just as comfortable.

“Great,” Harvey answered with a smile that told Sabrina he was happier than ever, though she couldn't quite place why. She smiled back, too.

Near the table of books, Theo introduced Roz to Robin. They exchanged greetings, and the group chatted for a few minutes longer.

Harvey was in the midst of goofing off with Theo, both of them laughing when Nick strolled out of the stockroom. He paused, clearly not having noticed the additions to the store. There was a thick silence that washed over the group suddenly as Roz’s eyes flickered between Sabrina and Nick.

“Harry,” Nick greeted, and then looked to Roz. “Rosalind.”

Harvey just nodded, while Roz’s exterior seemed to shift into something sharp and alert. Sabrina realized very quickly that this was likely the first time Roz and Nick had seen each other since high school.

“Nicholas…” Roz said hesitantly. “Odd to see you here.”

“Nick works here,” Sabrina butted in, trying to sound chipper in hopes that Roz would catch on. She had yet to mention to her that she and Nick were once again on good terms, and last her friend had been made aware of, Nick was still the enemy. She had intended to catch Roz up before she returned to visit Greendale, but she hadn’t expected her to fly in so soon.

There was confusion in Roz’s features—Harvey’s too. While he’d been aware of Nick’s occupation in the bookstore, he, too, had not been acquainted with the newly formed neutrality between the pair. Sabrina cringed inwardly. She really should’ve sorted that out sooner, but to be fair, she wasn’t entirely certain where she and Nick stood. They weren’t exactly friends, but…

Roz opened her mouth once more, looking as though she was ready to say something pointed and unkind.

“Nick’s cool,” Theo said, swooping in to save the day. “He’s been helping me get everything set up.”

But Roz Walker still stood, eyes hardened and suspicious as she gazed at Nick, and then once more at Sabrina as if checking in to make sure she was fine. Though normally kind and hard to agitate, Roz was fiercely protective over her loved ones.

She was Sabrina’s oldest friend, and the pair had exchanged their promises and friendship bracelets on the playground monkey bars before Theo and Harvey had come into the picture. If anyone was ever going to have her back, whether she was justified or not, it was Roz.

There were another few seconds of uncomfortable silence before the phone in the store began to blare and Nick slunk off to answer it somewhere in the back. Luckily, he’d read the room and didn’t return.

It was only later, after Theo and the others departed the store for the day—Roz to her father’s home to settle in, the others elsewhere with the promise to meet up for a celebratory dinner later that night—that Sabrina wandered off through the store in search of Nick, and odd sort of pull dragging her along.

It was her fault her friends didn’t like him, after all. She promised herself she would right their opinions eventually.

She found him toward the back, sorting through a shelf of mystery novels. He had a couple of books tucked under his arm, his back to her when he spoke.

“Hi, Sabrina.”

Sabrina froze, eyes wide. “You heard me?”

“You carry yourself a certain way,” Nick said, turning back to glance at her, the shadow of a half-smile evident on his face. “It’s anything but quiet, Spellman.”

“Aunt Zelda says something similar,” Sabrina said with a shrug. “At least the part about not being quiet.”

Nick chuckled and momentarily focused his attention back on the shelf, his finger running across the spines of the books until it landed on what he was searching for. He plucked the book and tucked it away with the others. It was a little mesmerizing watching him handle the texts. He was firm yet delicate, careful not to crease or harm them.

She toed her shoe against the hardwood, remembering the way Roz had stood up to Nick in the hallway back at Baxter High, when she’d shoved his sweatshirt back at him. There had been a flicker of that same fire in her eyes when she’d looked at Nick today. “Um, Roz still doesn’t like you. But only because she still thinks I don’t—so I’m sorry if she came off a bit cold. I’ll talk to her.”

Nick turned toward her fully, a hint of confusion lingering, as though wondering why she’d brought it up. He didn’t seem all that fazed by the ordeal. “I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but I don’t really care,” he said, his tone light. “My feelings aren’t that easily hurt, Spellman, I promise.”

Sabrina exhaled a breath of relief and followed him when he departed down the aisle, headed for an unlabeled door. He pushed it open and flicked on the light, then left the door open invitingly. She wandered in behind him but stopped suddenly in the doorway.

The walls in the room were lined almost entirely with dark wooden shelves that scaled up into the ceiling. There were a few boxes lingering about, likely with new product or other office supplies, but her attention was drawn to the center of the room where a large wooden desk sat, its surface large and vast. There various books lingering about the top, as well as scattered office supplies.

Nick sat the books he’d picked off the shelves onto the desk and fumbled about until he found a stack of post-it notes. She watched curiously as he scribbled something on one of them and stuck then stuck it to the top book. He caught her watching and she blushed lightly.

“Mr. Donovan likes to call ahead and have what he’s looking for put aside so that he doesn’t have to search the shelves. Sometimes he drops in, but lately, Melvin or I have been dropping them off for him since he’s had his surgery,” Nick said. “He only picked out the one, but he’s a real stickler for a good mystery and I happen to know these other two are right up his alley.”

Sabrina smiled. “That’s kind, Nick.” She knew Mr. Donovan. He had once owned the corner store down the block. She and her friends used to stop in for sodas and late afternoon popsicles. He was a sweet old man, and he always used to slip an extra candy bar in with their other items when they weren’t looking, mostly because he knew they were good kids.

“It’s weird,” Nick answered honestly, but from the tone of his voice, it was meant to come off light-hearted. “I forgot how close-knit this town is. When I was in college, I barely knew the names of the people that sat beside me in class.”

She laughed and saw him perk up at the sound. “It was a culture shock for me, for sure, when I left for a bigger city. But I did miss it—the closeness of everyone here,” she said, but she saw Nick shrug as though he wasn’t sure of that. She moved further into the room, her eyes slipping over the various books that sat neatly upon the shelves like tiny little soldiers lined up for war. There wasn’t one out of place, and the room itself exuded a sort of sacredness.

“Why isn’t this room on display?” she pondered.

“It’s Cassius’ personal collection,” Nick explained. “Some of the books here are collectibles and much too valuable to be out on the floor. Some are older than even he is. And they aren’t for sale.”

She circled the room, paying careful attention to the books as she did. By now, she supposed she should’ve left, should’ve said her polite goodbye and exited the store, but something drew her to stay. The same thing that had driven her to challenge him the previous night—a desire to unravel something. Nick exuded mystery, but maybe she was just like Mr. Donovan. Maybe it was right up her alley, too.

“Can I ask you a question?” she wondered aloud. Nick, now slipping the small stack of books onto a nearby shelf, glanced back at her with a curious aura. He nodded. “Why did you come back to Greendale?”

There was a hesitant pause, even though Nick didn’t look all that surprised at her question. He had likely expected it from her, given that she was usually very forward. “When I was here last, earlier this year, Cassius talked me into running the shop,” he answered. “He never had kids, and no distant relatives who wanted to take over the business. He was ready to retire. I had a degree in business, and he asked if I wanted it. I practically grew up here, and I couldn’t pass it up.”

Sabrina’s eyes widened and she spun on her heel to look at him. His eyes shifted quickly, almost as if he had just been caught staring. “So…you technically own Cassius’?”

“Technically, yeah. It’s in my name,” Nick said. “But rightfully—it’ll always belong to Cassius. He started the place, raised it up from the ground. It’ll be _Cassius’ Books_ for as long as I have a say.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Sabrina marveled, and Nick looked a little bashful. “I was wondering why I hadn’t seen him around.”

“He’s currently living it up in a small cottage upstate,” Nick said with a smirk. “He took nothing but his dog and a few of his favorite books, though he’s constantly calling and asking if I can mail him another.”

Sabrina smiled at the image of Cassius in a small, woodsy, cabin somewhere far off, enjoying the peace and quiet. While she had always loved to see Cassius as a kid, eager for a new book to add to her own collection, she felt that Nick had likely had a connection to the old man that far exceeded her own. The first time she’d seen him, it had been in the store, after all.

She thought about that boy again, the one she’d stumbled upon tucked away in his own little corner. When she’d grasped his hand that day, he’d followed her.

“You didn’t come back to Greendale to run a bookstore,” Sabrina said softly. She saw through Nick. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe his story, but she knew there had to be more to it. “There are plenty of opportunities in California, Nick. Way more than Greendale.”

He looked at her, brown eyes lingering on hers for just a second too long before they flickered away again, and he busied himself with a few scattered office supplies along the surface of the desk. She watched him, noted the change in his exterior, the way he closed himself off again—just like that.

“I did,” Nick confirmed. “I moved back fully when Cassius offered the shop to me, but I had already been in town, temporarily, for other reasons.” He hesitated. She was about to tell him that it was fine, he didn’t have to divulge, but he continued. “My mom—my adoptive mom—is ill.”

She suddenly felt stupid for prying.

“She’s fine,” Nick assured once he noticed her regret. “She went through it once before and she beat it. It’s just easier that I’m here—to watch over her. Just in case.”

“I’m sorry, Nick,” she whispered, and her fingers reached out on their own accord, grazing his sleeve. To her surprise, Nick didn’t move away, but he watched her carefully, almost as if anticipating her next move.

“It’s not secret information, Spellman. Most everyone who knows her knows it. You’ve been gone, so you missed out on the town gossip,” he insisted and she understood what he doing. He was trying to lessen her guilt, the sudden feeling that she'd overstepped. He brightened up a second later. “It got to be very annoying after a while. Prudence was shooing people and their casseroles off the porch for at least a week. I personally think they were coming back because they were waiting for her to fly off on it.”

Sabrina laughed quietly and Nick did, too. She could tell he didn’t want to linger on the topic and she was just as eager to shift the air back into something more positive. Still, a part of her felt grateful that he'd shared something with her. That had been the first she'd ever really heard him speak of his mother, or his family outside of his sisters.

“You still think Prudence is a witch, huh?” she joked.

“She has to be,” Nick insisted. “You’ve never seen her make a full-grown adult cry just by looking at them. She was twelve the first time she did that.”

That time, Sabrina didn’t try to quiet her laughter. Nick’s half-smile extended into a full one.

A seconds later, her phone buzzed on the table. There was a reminder that appeared on the screen and Sabrina retrieved it quickly. “Oh, I almost forgot. I’ve got to pick up Theo’s cake before dinner tonight. Hilda just finished frosting it.”

“Another cake?”

“The first was cupcakes,” Sabrina explained. “Hilda firmly believes that cupcakes are the appetizers of the baking world. They’re supposed to lead into the real cake. Plus, we love Theo, and he deserves to be spoiled today.”

“Right,” Nick nodded. “Before you go though, I’ve got something for you.” He pushed himself off the table and wandered off toward another stack of books near the back of the office. There, he picked up a book and when he revealed it, her heart almost skipped a beat.

“Nick, that’s…”

_Women Who Run with the Wolves_ —the very same book Sabrina had stopped in to grab the day she’d run into him. She’d almost completely forgotten about it.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to come back for it or not, but I put it aside for you just in case,” he explained, holding it out for her. She took it gently, saw her name written on a tiny yellow post-it note on the front. Warmth fluttered in her chest.

She ran her thumb along the edge of the cover softly and smiled. They stood a few feet apart, but close enough that she could see the rich brown of his eyes, the gentleness of them. A wave of familiarity washed over her, as well as the desire to reach out, to bury her face in the crook of his neck the way she had before. For a brief moment, she stood still, afraid that if she moved she would betray herself.

The tiny bell at the register chimed, signaling a customer in need of assistance. Nick started, almost as if he’d forgotten where he was. Sabrina moved to the side, allowing him to go ahead while she recovered from her daze. 

“Thank you, Nick. I owe you, for sure,” she murmured.

“No need,” he said as he brushed past her. “I still owe you those four milkshakes, after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He saved her book! He's getting on her good side, for sure. Next chapter, we're meeting a new character. Or rather, a new version of an existing character.
> 
> Thanks for reading guys, please let me know what you thought! I hope everyone is doing okay and staying safe right now. Feel free to let me know how you guys have been passing the time, I'd love for some new ideas so that I can continue to avoid the ever-growing pile of laundry I have yet to fold.


	12. blackberry sodas and lemon-meringue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So, I'm sorry, but I shifted some things around this chapter so it's shorter than usual. Also, if you guessed Amalia, you were right! BUT, because I shifted things, she's not coming until next chapter! SORRY!

*

The warmth from the sun was thick and heavy, sitting over her exposed shoulders like a shawl, no doubt burning the pale skin there should she linger too long. Still, she wandered down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace, allowing the subtle breeze to gently carry her where she needed to go.

At just a little past noon, Sabrina was headed for Dr. Cerberus’ for a lunch date with Roz. The previous day’s dinner had been a loud affair, the entire group packed into a small table in Greendale’s only Italian restaurant, and afterward, Roz had gone home to spend the rest of the evening with her father. Needless to say, she was desperate for some alone time with her best friend, and Roz was equally desperate for a slow day that would allow her to recharge from her long flight.

The hinges on the diner’s old door creaked as she swung it open and entered. Inside, Cee’s boisterous voiced called out a greeting, and soon, he was ducking out of the kitchen, all cheery and put together, his standard Dracula costume donned.

Sabrina smiled. “Afternoon, Cee.”

“Welcome, welcome,” Cee said politely, drying his hands off on a kitchen towelette as he approached the counter. “What can I get you today?”

Of course, she didn’t bother with the menu. It was a well-known fact amongst the Greendale residents that the laminated menus jammed into the napkin holders were mere statements of decor, and were usually only reserved for newcomers. Those that routinely prowled the streets in search of rich, decadent diner food simply had their favorites memorized, and she had always been a regular, so Cee knew her orders by heart.

“I’ll have a grilled cheese, please,” Sabrina requested. “And two blackberry sodas.”

“Ah, that’s right. Miss. Rosalind is in town, isn’t she?” Cee said with a pleasant smile. Outside of their usual milkshakes, they only ordered blackberry sodas when they were together. A whimsical play-ground promise that had sprouted into their routine.

Sabrina nodded eagerly, unable to hide her excitement.

“In that case, a basket of onion rings to share?” he asked.

“That sounds perfect,” Sabrina exhaled happily. Cee only used sweet onions for in his onion rings, and it left them sitting in a category closer to a dessert than a standard side dish.

Cee gave another nod and she plopped into a booth to wait for Roz. She removed the book Nick had given her from her bag and ran her finger over the crisp edges before she opened it. Her old copy was still lost somewhere, and it had been so long she was unsure of where she’d left off, but she found she didn’t mind a reread.

She only managed a couple of pages before the door creaked once more and Roz stepped in, her eyes immediately settling on Sabrina. Cee picked up her meal order as well, and Sabrina rose to give her a much-needed hug.

“I’ve missed this,” she said, a few moments after Cee had brought out their drinks and onion rings, and promised to follow shortly with their entrees. “I’ve missed you.”

Roz beamed. “I’ve missed you, too,” she echoed, and they lifted their drinks, mirrored copies of each other as they took their first sip. The sugary sweet carbonation pricked at Sabrina’s tongue, bringing along a wave of nostalgia.

“How have you been, Roz? I didn’t quite get to ask you last night, between all of the excitement and tears.” It had been a rather sentimental dinner with Theo deciding he would aloud the dedications at the front of his book. There had been a tender sentence devoted to each of his closest friends that had left them all dewy-eyed.

“Things have been fantastic,” Roz answered genuinely. “It’s a lot of hard work, and some nights I don’t sleep a wink, but it’s so very fulfilling. I know I’m where I’m meant to be.”

If there was anyone Sabrina could pinpoint as selfless and entirely devoted to the care of others, it was Roz. She would make a fantastic Doctor one day. “Will you stay in Seattle after your residency?” Sabrina wondered.

Roz blushed a bit, almost as if she were embarrassed to admit it. “I think so,” she said. “I really like it there. I’ve made friends, and it’s a lot bigger than Greendale, but I find it comforting. There’s so much to do.”

Sabrina nodded knowingly. She thought about what Nick had said, how he’d almost seemed to prefer being in a city where no one knew him. She supposed she could see what he meant, but herself, she loved knowing people. She wanted to travel and explore, but she also wanted to leave her mark. Nick seemed content to breeze through life as a ghost.

Cee swung by a second later, dropping off their entrees and striking up a small conversation with Roz, asking about her time away in a polite manner, before he left them on their own again.

Sabrina looked down at her grilled cheese, ribbons of steam billowing from it, twisting up toward the ceiling. He’d added another slice of cheese, just as she liked, and crusted the edges of it with extra butter so that it was crispier than normal.

Roz seemed to be pleasantly admiring her own burger when Sabrina looked up again. She smiled back sheepishly.

“No one in Seattle gets my cheeseburgers right, though,” she said, and they laughed.

“There are some perks to this place.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying their onion rings and respective meals, before Sabrina caught Roz watching her with a curious demeanor.

“How’s everything here?” Roz asked.

“The same,” Sabrina replied with a little shrug. “Hilda still has the cafe, Zelda still runs the mortuary. The only difference is that we’re older and more responsible now.”

Roz nodded, but her curiosity didn’t diminish any. There was something else on her mind, and Sabrina had a feeling she knew what.

“I’m just going to cut to the chase,” Roz said.

Sabrina waited.

“What’s up with you and Nick?”

“Nick and I are fine,” Sabrina confirmed with a nod, though she knew there would be no leaving it there.

“Brina…”

“We put the past in the past and moved on,” Sabrina continued, hesitantly sipping her soda.

“When?” Roz wondered. “Some weeks ago, when first got here, you sent me a very lengthy text telling me he was in town. Attached with it were about thirty vomiting emojis.”

Sabrina giggled awkwardly at the memory. She supposed she had been a little bit petty. “He apologized and so did I. We’re not exactly friends but we’re okay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just wanted some time to see if it would last before I made a bold statement.”

“Brina, I don’t care that you didn’t tell me. I’m just worried about you. I mean, he really hurt you. Are you sure you can forgive him?”

“He had a good reason,” Sabrina said, and left that portion there, allowing Nick his privacy. “I forgive him.”

Roz was quiet for a moment as she considered. “And you…trust him? What if he was lying?”

“I don’t think he was,” Sabrina said. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I just know that he was being truthful. And, regardless if he was or not, it was high-school. I think I may have overreacted. We’re both in Greendale for the time being and I can’t exactly continue holding it against him when we see each other nearly every day.” She paused. “Plus, it was sort of my fault, too—the way things ended between us.”

Roz looked confused. “What do you mean?”

Sabrina poked at her grilled cheese, looking slightly embarrassed. “He tried to call me,” she murmured. “I was so upset that I ignored it. It wasn’t his number, but I should’ve just answered it. And, more importantly, when he did try to talk to me later, I shouldn’t have pushed him away. I should’ve—”

Roz took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You can’t beat yourself up over things you should’ve done, Brina,” she said firmly. “I can’t say I trust Nick. I might never. That night you came over, I’d never seen you so torn up before, and I promised myself I’d never let you be that way again. I still stand by that promise today.”

She remembered that night in a foggy blur—walking to Roz’s in the rain, crying on her couch for what seemed like hours. Roz, sitting beside her, stroking her hair and attempting to piece her back together so that when morning came, she’d vowed to never cry over Nick Scratch again. That night seemed so far away now, but it still drew a heavy feeling in her stomach.

“He wasn’t just that guy I liked, he was my friend, too,” Sabrina said. “I think that’s why I was so sad.”

Roz kept a hold of her hand, nodding and looking at her warmly. They sat like that for a little longer before Roz finally asked, “Do you regret it?” There was a short pause. “Letting him be the first one?”

“No,” Sabrina decided after careful consideration of her stance with Nick now, the things she knew, the pieces of him she’d gotten to see. He was genuinely apologetic and she knew it. And she hadn’t been so innocent either. “He never pressed me, never made me feel uncomfortable, and we only went at the speed that felt right for me. It wasn’t a bad first experience, and knowing what I know now, I’m not sure I would have wanted it to be with anyone else.”

Not to mention, the second time had been much nicer, and thinking about it brought a soft, warm heat to her cheeks.

It was odd, Weeks ago, she wouldn’t have dared to consider Nick in a positive light, much less be okay with losing her virginity to him. But now, it didn’t bother her much. Besides, what did virginity matter anyway? It wasn’t something anyone could _take_ from her, she realized now that she was older and somewhat wiser. Sabrina was whole, no matter what.

Roz looked surprised. “Not even Harvey?”

Sabrina hugged a quiet little laugh at that. “Harvey’s… _Harvey,”_ she tried to explain delicately. “He’s got a spot in my heart that’ll never be replaced, but to put it lightly, I’m not sure we were really all that compatible in that department.”

Sex with Harvey had always just felt like that: sex. It felt nice, sometimes even great, but did she miss it when they’d stopped and deemed themselves as ‘just friends’ again? Not really, and if she was being honest, her own hand had made a good enough replacement.

That wasn’t to say that Harvey couldn’t rock someone else’s world just fine. Hers just needed…a little more rocking?

Roz snorted and sat back to take a sip of her soda. “Noted,” she said and left it at that. They picked at the remainder of their onion rings before she went on. “So, are you trying to…I don’t know, try again with Nick? A relationship, I mean.”

Sabrina shook her head. “No. I don’t think we’re meant for that. But I do want to try and be friends again,” she decided.

“I support you either way,” Roz said. “I always will. But, I stand by my words. If he tries anything or hurts you ever again…”

“I’m sure he’ll live up to his name,” Sabrina said with a laugh, though she was certain he would walk away with more than just a nick or a scratch. “It won’t be necessary, Roz. I’m sure by the end of summer, Nick and I will go our separate ways again. This time, on good terms.”

Roz smiled. “If you’re certain.”

*

The cafe’s lock clicked into place and Sabrina sighed, taking a moment to savor the peace and quiet outside. The soft chirping of a cluster of nearby birds was the only way she knew the world was standing just fine, and the apocalypse hadn’t rattled Greendale as she had earlier thought.

Once every few weeks, _Sweets by Hilda_ offered lemon-meringue pie. It could be purchased by the slice, enjoyed at the cafe with a cup of tea, but most people called ahead and reserved entire pies. And that would be fine, really, if Hilda’s pies weren’t _so damn good_ she’d had to place a one-per-household limit on them.

Away at college, Sabrina had gotten to hear these legendary stories from her cousin, but today, she’d gotten to experience it herself. Pie-mageddon, as Ambrose had coined it.

Nearly every family in Greendale had ordered a pie and Sabrina, Hilda’s dutiful assistant for the day, had zested enough lemons and beat enough egg-whites that she was certain her hands would never get back to perfect working order ever again. Though her outing with Roz had only been the previous day, it felt like forever ago.

After tugging on the door and checking to make sure the lock was secured, she turned and headed for the crosswalk, no doubt smelling like a fresh lemon.

Like a savior in all black, Nick caught in her peripheral. He was headed to his car, unaware of her presence until she stepped directly in front of him.

He jumped. “Sabrina.”

“I’ve had a long day and I’d like to redeem a milkshake,” she said seriously, and then a moment or so later uttered, “Hi, Nick.”

“Hi,” he offered and then paused as if suddenly noticing something. “You smell delightfully lemony.”

“Like I said—long day.” Her eyes flickered down to his hands. He had a few paper bags from the nearby grocer and Sabrina quickly realized that he was probably in the middle of something and she had just rudely interrupted. “Are you busy?”

Nick shrugged. “Sort of,” he said, but then he smirked. “But the agreement was that you could redeem at your choice, and I’m not a rule breaker.”

She shook her head, feeling stupid. “No, that’s okay. I’ll find you another day,” she decided, but Nick slipped around her and popped the trunk to his car, where he began to unload the bags from his grasp.

“Come with me,” Nick suggested. “I’ll drop this off and we can go. It’ll only take a second, promise.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure? Nick, if you had plans, I don’t want to—”

Nick shut the trunk once he was finished and slipped around to where she stood, opening the passenger side door for her. “Positive.”

After another second of consideration, she agreed and slid into the seat. He shut the door snuggly behind her and took his spot at the driver’s side. As he started the engine, he glanced over at her with a small smile.

“Why was your day so bad?” he asked.

“It wasn’t bad, per se. It was lemon-meringue pie day and I swear, I expected the streets to be smeared into lemon custard when I left today,” she said. “Also, Zelda stopped by in the afternoon amid the chaos and complained that I made her coffee wrong.”

He laughed, and she smiled because she liked the way it sounded. Low and warm. A cup of dark coffee with just the right amount of sugar.

“How far do you live?” Sabrina asked curiously. She remembered him mentioning that he wasn’t that far when they were near Dorian’s the other night.

“We’re not going to my place,” he answered.

Sabrina hummed. “Spooky,” she said playfully. “You know, I once watched a series about a handsome bookstore clerk who murdered people, and now you’ve got me wondering if I’m risking my life over a milkshake.”

His brow was raised when he glanced back at her again. “You think I’m handsome?” he asked, looking amused.

Sabrina laughed. “I’m glad that’s what you took out of that.” She paused and pretended to look him over before she shrugged and said, “You’re alright, I guess.”

“Just alright?” Nick asked, pretending to be hurt. “Ouch.”

She sat back, rolling her eyes playfully. He dropped his attention back to the road, too, but she swore the smile lingered on his face.

They continued at a steady pace, slowing down once he approached a neighborhood. It wasn’t far from the Kinkle home, Sabrina noticed. She had no idea where they were going, but she supposed she’d find out soon enough.

He pulled to a stop before a pale blue house and Sabrina gazed up at it curiously. The lawn was neat, a long walkway headed to the front porch. Nick undid his seatbelt and started to exit, but she remained, certain that he’d probably meant to drop off what he had to and come back. She certainly didn’t want to invade.

“Where are we?” she wondered.

“Where I grew up,” Nick said. Her eyes immediately widened and she looked back to the home, as though viewing it under a new light. “Do you want to come inside? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’ll be quick.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sabrina decided and undid her seatbelt in a near trance. She hadn’t expected Nick to take her to the place he’d been raised, much less invite her inside.

He smiled crookedly and then nodded, as though happy she’d agreed. Shortly after, he disappeared to retrieve the bags he’d left in his trunk.

Outside, when she stepped down onto the ground, it was still solid and real and the world hadn't ended after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sabrina's finally filled in Roz, and Nick's taking Sabrina on an adventure she hadn't really expected. This chapter was short and a little bit of a slow one, but next will be exciting. Also, along with Amalia, we'll get another character coming back. I won't say much, but he's taken on a different, more furrier form lol! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought! I hope everyone is well!


	13. dinner with the wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I'm officially off quarantine as I've been called back to work and it's been a little hectic. Hopefully, this crazy chapter will make up for it.
> 
> Also, yeah, Path of Night solidified Amalia as a completely HORRENDOUS experience, so like, please don't think of me as a bad person for portraying her as a good mom here! She's human and not a complete murderous wolf here, and really all that is the same is the name. Nick deserves a good mom. 
> 
> BTW, when I finished Daughter of Chaos, I actually LIKED Harvey more...then I finished Path of Night and now and I don't really like him anymore? Anyone else feel the same? (Why was he so mean? to a guy? being TORMENTED in hell? Please, Harry, take several seats)
> 
> Also, please welcome back Lucifer. He is much more tolerable here.

*

The ascent up the pathway was short, despite its winding appearance and mismatched stones that were loose in some spots. Nick’s arm hovered just above the small of her back, just in case she slipped, and though he never touched her, she felt him all the same.

She smiled at the little gnome that greeted them at the bottom of the porch steps, his cheeks red, and his expression frozen in a cheery state. Hilda had one like it, except she had painted the hat yellow—her favorite color. The little mailbox attached to the wall beside the front door read ‘Wolfe’.

Nick went ahead of her to get the door despite the bags in his hands. She had managed to weasel one away from him before they made their way up to the home, ignoring his protests. He held the front door open and she slipped in past him.

The inside of the home was warm, bathed in cozy golden hues with an herb-y scent hanging in the air. A soft song played, wafting gently into the entryway, mixed with the bumping and clanking of kitchen cabinets.

Sabrina hadn’t expected anyone to be inside the house, so she stood shocked and confused. She started when Nick let go of the door behind himself and it slammed shut with a loud bang.

“Oops,” he said, not at all sounding like he'd meant it.

Almost immediately, there was a shout from deep in the home, the clanking having come to a sudden stop.

“Nicholas Scratch!” called a woman, sounding irritated. Stomping reverberated down the hallway, drowning out the music that was still playing. “Just how many times do you plan to slam that door before you knock it off its hinges? Why have a door when I can have a gaping hole for you to roll in through like some sort of lunatic?”

“That would be more fun,” Nick said.

The stomping let up just as the woman entered, stopping short in the archway. Her mouth hung open, ready to respond, but clearly having been shocked silent at the image of a stranger in her home. Sabrina gave a small smile. Beside her, Nick looked smug, as though daring her to continue lecturing him.

“Oh,” the woman said. Then, with some semblance of realization, her hands flew to her hair. “I had no idea Nick was bringing someone along.” Her thin fingers worked quickly, tucking away strands of loose, wild hair, which framed her face like a mane, falling out of its clip. There was a colorful shawl thrown around her shoulders, and she hastily fixed it, too. “I’m Amalia. Nick’s mom. Welcome.”

“Sabrina Spellman,” Sabrina introduced, her smile spreading wider. She held out a hand, her heart thumping her chest, eyes glancing at Nick. Frankly, she was in disbelief. She definitely had no expected him to not only bring her to his childhood home, but also introduce her to his mother. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Amalia’s eyes were a golden amber, closer to yellow than brown, and they suddenly sparked with recognition. Her hand slipped into Sabrina's. “Oh, you’re Hilda’s girl, aren’t you?” she asked as Nick began to slip the bag from Sabrina’s other hand.

Sabrina nodded. “You know my auntie?”

“They go to the same craft fair,” Nick explained as he headed for the hallway that most likely led to the kitchen, intent to put away the groceries. “It’s a whole dramatic affair. You should hear the town gossip that happens there.”

“I know both of your aunties,” Amalia said. “Though, I’ve only met Zelda on a few occasions, the last being my ex-husband’s funeral.”

“Oh,” Sabrina said. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Amalia assured honestly. “I hated him. I’m glad he’s dead. Your auntie threw a fabulous affair, but there weren’t enough balloons.”

“’Mal!” Nick chastised from the kitchen. “You can’t say that. People will think you killed him.”

“They won’t throw a sick lady in jail,” Amalia said, reminding Sabrina about what Nick had said in the bookshop. He’d mentioned that his mom was sick, and while Amalia looked a little frail, she appeared lively. Sabrina smiled softly at the woman.

Nick emerged from the kitchen, hands free. “You also can’t use the excuse that you’re sick to commit crimes. I’ve told you this before.” He dug his keys out of pocket and made his way to stand beside Sabrina. She looked up, eyes catching on the off-kilter smirk he gave her. “Ready to go, Spellman?”

Before Sabrina could respond, Amalia interrupted. “Go where?” she asked. “You can’t go. Dinner is almost ready!”

“We have plans,” Nick told her with a shrug. He didn’t look as though he really wanted to stay, but the little flutter in Sabrina’s chest told her she felt the opposite. She couldn’t be certain Nick would ever allow her in like this again, and she didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

Wow, when had she become this desperate to get to know Nick Scratch?

“Well, then you can go, but you can’t make that decision for Sabrina. She can stay if she’d like,” Amalia declared, crossing her arms. She looked at Sabrina and smiled. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Don’t,” Nick said, giving her a grave look. “Her cooking is awful. Close to inedible. Please, let’s skip the food poisoning tonight.”

“Nicholas!” Amalia warned.

“I don’t mind staying,” Sabrina said, looking up at him for approval. If he really didn’t want to stay, she wouldn’t intrude. But Nick sighed and shook his head, seemingly having given up. A little smiled curled the corners of her red lips upward and she bumped his shoulder playfully, reminded of all the times he had given into her in the same manner. They had been younger then, but it felt the same, still.

“Wonderful,” Amalia said. “The girls will be here soon.”

“What?” Nick asked, his voice colored with surprise and a hint of horror. “In that case: hell no. I’m not staying just to get verbally assaulted by the Unholy Trinity in front of Sabrina.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Amalia said, slipping an arm through Sabrina’s and guiding her away. “Your sisters are perfectly respectable guests.”

“Not Agatha,” Nick said. “Agatha hates me, remember?”

“Agatha does not hate you.”

“She does,” Nick said, helplessly trailing behind them. Sabrina didn’t glance back at him for fear that she would be met with a look of betrayal. She pretended to be swept up by Amalia, though she could’ve easily slipped out of the woman’s grasp. Nick groaned behind her.

*

Sabrina understood now why Amalia and Hilda got along. They were both eclectic in their own manners. Sabrina realized this standing at the center of the Wolfe kitchen, waiting for Nicholas to hand her a stack of silverware after she had bothered him to allow her to help set up the table for dinner. Her eyes slipped around the home, taking in as much as she could.

The window was open, the smell of something sweet and floral filtering in. A cookie jar in the shape of a wolf sat on the sill, its body plump and cute, and a wind chime hung from the ceiling just above. Sabrina had always thought those went outdoors, but when the breeze filtered in from outside and rattled it gently, she realized it felt just right there.

She glanced at Amalia as she hummed nearby, stirring something on the stove-top. From her neck hung a chain that Sabrina hadn’t noticed before. A thick fang was attached to the end of it, glimmering under the light in the kitchen.

The sound of the front door opening stirred Sabrina, but it was the sound of tiny nails scraping along the hardwood that made her curious.

“Son of a bitch,” Nick said under his breath. “She brought that fucking dog.” He was moving suddenly and Sabrina nearly squeaked when his arm slipped around her waist and he hoisted her up onto the counter with ease, immediately looking apologetic as he said, “Trust me, you’ll want to stay up there.”

“Why?” Sabrina asked because she was certain if she didn’t speak, she would keep envisioning his arm and the feel of it around her waist—which was something she did not think was appropriate. The weight of it had been comforting. Warm.

Before Nick could respond, a tiny puff of brown appeared in the archway to the kitchen. It took Sabrina a second to realize that it was a dog. A very small Pomeranian, who currently stood with his teeth bared, a growl echoing throughout the kitchen, sounding like an angry toy car. A bright pink leash dragged behind him.

He lunged at Nick, the equivalent of a dandelion flying through the air as he attached himself to his ankle and bit down.

“Dorcas!” Nick called. The red-head appeared seconds later, standing in the same spot the dog had occupied. She smiled at the sight, and Nick waved his arm dramatically at his foot, which he lifted slightly into the air. The dog dangled off of it, still growling. “Please.”

“Luci,” Dorcas cooed, bending down. “Come here, little Luci.”

The dog tumbled to the floor and flitted off toward Dorcas, his demeanor shifting into a playful one. He showered her in puppy kisses.

“Can you please leash that thing?” Nick asked.

“Don’t call him a thing!” Dorcas exclaimed. Then, she cooed to the dog again. “He’s my little baby, isn’t he?”

“I don’t know,” Sabrina teased, choosing to ruffle Nick’s feathers a bit. “Luci’s kind of cute.”

“It’s short for Lucifer,” Nick said to Sabrina. “He’s the fucking Devil, I promise you.” Sabrina couldn’t help but giggle in response. She caught the quirk of his lip as he suppressed a grin. Warmth bubbled up in her chest again.

“Hi, Sabrina,” Dorcas greeted with an innocent smile that Sabrina knew was not so innocent at all. Sabrina wondered if she would regret her decision to stay for dinner by the end of the night. She dropped off the counter, the little demon dog seeming like child’s play compared to Nick’s other sisters.

Lucifer immediately tore away from Dorcas to assess Sabrina. He sniffed her once, then huffed in approval and sat down, growling at Nick when he got too close.

Nick picked up the stack of plates from the counter and glared down at the dog that had apparently taken a liking to Sabrina. “Screw you, too,” he said to the dog. Lucifer lunged up in the air toward his face and Nick jumped back hastily, looking slightly embarrassed when Sabrina laughed.

They were seated at the table not long after, silence sitting heavily over the group as Amalia arranged the serving dishes along the surface. Prudence had wandered in not long after Dorcas, greeting them in her subtly threatening way. Sabrina hadn’t seen Agatha enter at all, but she was positioned at the table across from Nick, who sat tense beside Sabrina. She resisted running her hand over his arm, unsure of whether or not it would soothe him, and also understanding that it wasn’t exactly her place.

“I met your cousin not long ago,” Amalia said, looking at Sabrina. “What a charming young man.”

“Charming?” Sabrina asked. “You’re talking about Ambrose, right?” An image flickered through her mind: her cousin in his pajamas, draped over the sofa with a little plate of Sunday bacon on his chest, trying desperately to keep from staining the remote with grease as he flicked through trash TV. Then again, she was there with him most mornings, indulging in reruns of 90 Day Fiance, so who was she to speak.

“Yes,” Amalia confirmed. “What a gentleman. I hope he sticks around.”

“You taught me that marriage is a sham and I value my freedom,” Prudence said cordially. “Ambrose is good company, but I could never be a Spellman.” She looked at Sabrina and added, “no offense,” in a way that was clearly offensive.

“None taken,” Sabrina said, trying to sound kind despite it.

“Don’t worry,” Prudence said. “I don’t think Nicky has any qualms about being a Spellman.”

Sabrina blushed pink.

Nick swooped in, rescuing her smoothly. “Sure, I’d be a Spellman. Maybe Hilda can adopt me,” he mused. “Her food tastes better.” He ignored the look Amalia shot him.

“That would be weird,” Dorcas said, cringing. “Then you’d be Sabrina’s cousin. Wouldn’t it be gross sleeping in her bed?”

“Nick and I are not together,” Sabrina said, louder than she had intended, causing the table to glance at her. Amalia blinked with worry, but she didn’t comment.

“Oh,” Dorcas said. “Are you still with that guy who used to draw the emo stuff?”

“Harry,” Nick answered, clearly unaffected by Dorcas’ previous outburst. Sabrina wondered how he managed to keep his cool, and she suddenly felt even more embarrassed. Clearly, it wasn’t a big deal to him, whatever had happened. It had just been a high-school fling, anyway.

 _“Harvey,”_ Sabrina corrected, eager to keep her mind on the proper path. “And no, we are not together.”

Agatha, who had been almost entirely silent up until just then, neatly folded her hands in front of her. “It’s a good thing you don’t have a boyfriend,” she said. “Being that Nick is here and all.”

Dorcas laughed, Amalia sighed, and Prudence stayed quiet. Sabrina glanced around, confused.

“Can we not do this tonight, Agatha?” Nick asked a second or so later, shooting a glare at her.

Dorcas spoke up, eager to fill Sabrina in when she caught her confused expression. “When Nick first came back he stole Agatha’s boyfriend!” She picked up the salad bowl and continued, clearly excited over the drama. “And Agatha caught them kissing at Dorian’s!”

Sabrina’s eyes went wide.

“I didn’t steal her boyfriend,” Nick shot back. Oh, now he sounded embarrassed, Sabrina noticed. _“He_ came onto _me.”_

“Ew,” Dorcas said.

Nick looked horrified. _“Not like that!”_

“Yeah, and you couldn’t say no for once in your life,” Agatha snapped.

“I didn’t know he was your boyfriend. He didn’t mention a girlfriend at all,” Nick insisted.

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Like it would have mattered to you.”

“He broke up with Agatha because Nick was the better kisser,” Dorcas went on, winking at Sabrina. “Over text!”

“Dorcas, will you please _shut the fuck up.”_

Amalia dug into the mashed potatoes to serve herself, seemingly unbothered by what was happening around her. She looked the way Zelda did every time Sabrina and Ambrose had come tearing down the stairs as kids, crying and blaming one another after having just beaten each other senseless with pillows over some measly argument. She always turned away and let Hilda deal with them when they were like that.

“Nicholas, don’t curse at the table,” Amalia lectured.

“Oh, so I can’t say ‘fuck’ at the table, but she can slut-shame me at the table?” Nick asked.

“You _are_ a slut,” Agatha said.

“So are you. And you, and you,” Nick defended, pointing at each of his sisters as though he were taking attendance. Then, in a very over-the-top manner, he declared, “We’re just a big happy family of sluts, aren’t we?”

The table was quiet. Sabrina sat very still.

“Please pass the bread,” Prudence requested nonchalantly.

Nick shoved the basket of bread in her direction.

*

Dinner continued relatively smoothly after the initial hiccup. Amalia held the conversation on a steady path. Lucifer bit Nick under the table more than Sabrina could count, earning a giggle from Dorcas each time. Afterward, Sabrina suggested she and Nick leave, understanding that he was likely fed up.

They stayed to help clear the table, and then Nick was tugging on his leather jacket, standing in the doorway. Amalia hugged Sabrina goodbye, and Nick bid his mother and sisters a good evening.

“Bye, Agatha,” he said as he turned away, clearly meaning to suggest it as an afterthought.

“You’re dumb and I hate you,” Agatha responded.

Nick spun on his heel and looked at her in offense. “Take it back,” he demanded.

Agatha looked pleased. “No,” she said, then repeated, _“I hate you.”_

“I don’t care about that,” Nick snapped. “I meant the part where you called me dumb.”

“Why don’t we go?” Sabrina interrupted before Agatha could craft another response and leave her as a witness to a potential crime scene in which both siblings would probably die.

Nick glanced at her, then back at Agatha, before he nodded. They slipped out onto the porch, the evening air a touch cooler. Nick sighed and raked his hand through his hair once he dropped into his car, the curls rumpling.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Sabrina clicked her seat belt into place and looked over at him. He hadn’t turned on the car yet and instead, sat nervously. As nervous as she could imagine someone like Nick being. “What for?” she asked.

“For that,” Nick said, motioning toward the house.

Sabrina shrugged. “That was tame compared to what our dinners are like at our place sometimes,” she assured. “Ambrose and I once sword-fought with steak knives over the last piece of pie.”

Nick chuckled softly, and she smiled, happy to see him loosen from his tense state. That had been her intention when she brought up her own family and its problems. “Who won?” he asked.

“Zelda threw it down the garbage disposal,” Sabrina said. “I like to think I still won because he didn’t get it.” In the dark, she watched him shake his head, his smile extending into a full one. Her own grew it in response. “Trust me. My family is worse.”

Nick shook his head. “Don’t say that. They love you, and they missed you while you were gone,” he said, finally starting the car.

As he pulled away from the curb, Sabrina asked, “It’s not too late, do you still want to go get a milkshake?”

Nick’s voice was quiet, nearly lost over the sound of the engine. “You aren’t tired of me yet?” he joked, but she caught it, despite how much he tried to hide it—that hint of worry. Even fainter than it was the touch of hope that maybe she wasn’t.

“Not at all,” Sabrina assured, and that time, she did reach out to touch his arm, fingers lingering longer than she had intended.

To her surprise, Nick didn’t move away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dinner went...well? Nick and Agatha are on bad terms, Nick is embarrassed by his crazy family, but Sabrina doesn't think they're all that bad. 
> 
> Next chapter: the REAL first milkshake date.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you thought if you'd like to!


	14. boy, friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends. It's me. I am still kicking. If you follow me on tumblr, you'll know this was meant to go up Wednesday night lol! Sorry guys!

*

The diner was empty. A gentle ribbon of timely music wafted over occasionally from the old jukebox in the corner. A spooky tune, meshing comfortably with the classic horror theme prevalent in Dr. Cerberus’ despite Halloween still being months away.

Sabrina eyed the man across the booth from her, his chocolate shake melting slowly under the fluorescent lighting overhead. The leather jacket he’d worn into the diner sat draped over the back of his seat, leaving him in a casual black t-shirt. Her eyes traced the curve of his bicep down to his forearm, thinking passively back to the way it had slotted comfortably against her waist. Like the pages of a book to its cover. A pull of espresso stopping flush to the lip of a glass.

Just right—horrifyingly so. Enough to make her shiver. Enough to make her deny it altogether and blame it on the cold drink.

His fingers tapped softly along the peeling laminate of the table as he glanced up at her. The hint of a smile worked at the corner of his lips when he saw her looking at him.

“What’s on your mind, Spellman?”

She dropped her attention to her own shake, swiping up a dribble of condensation with her finger before it hit the table, the smallest of blushes feathering along her cheeks in response to being caught staring. Sabrina wasn’t certain why she’d done it in the first place. It had felt like she had been searching for an answer to a question she wasn’t even aware of.

Sabrina cleared her throat and moved her straw through the drink, swirling together whipped cream and the pale green of her mint shake.

“Did you really steal Agatha’s boyfriend?” she asked in an effort to stir-up a conversation.

Nick blew a curl off his forehead. It fluttered right back into place not a second later. “The way Agatha tells it, I rode into Greendale at the strike of midnight and wretched her lover straight from her arms,” he said and Sabrina fought back a laugh at the image. “In reality, he was a guy I met at the bar a week after I came back. I had no idea he was dating my sister. Actually, he didn’t mention he was seeing anyone at all.”

“He sounds like a dirt-bag,” Sabrina said. “Why does Agatha blame you for that? I mean, if you didn’t know…”

“In most cases, it’s easier to blame the town harlot than the guy you thought you could trust,” Nick said.

“Town harlot?” Sabrina asked, breaking one of the mini-chocolate chips that had made its way up her straw between her teeth in sudden surprise. She knew Nick wore his promiscuity like a badge of honor, but she thought ‘town harlot’ was probably pushing it. “That’s a new title.”

“According to Agatha, that’s my new label. Also: homewrecker,” Nick continued. “It’s a tough role to fill, but someone’s gotta do it.”

“Good lord,” she sighed. It seemed that his feud with his sister went deeper than a small case of sibling rivalry. “I get it—sort of—but isn’t she overreacting? If that were the case with Ambrose, I’d take his side over anyone else’s. And I certainly wouldn’t blame him for getting mixed up with a guy like that.”

“My sister hates Greendale,” Nick said and his voice wasn’t malicious; it rang deep with understanding. “He promised to get her out of here, to help get her a start in the fashion industry he apparently worked in out in the city. I don’t think Agatha really was all that interested in him in particular, but she wanted the opportunity.” Nick sighed in a way that told her he’d gotten all of that information second-hand and likely not at all from Agatha. She sensed that Prudence was likely the middleman between the two of them, but even her role was likely not enough to mend the torn relationship.

“What happened to him?” Sabrina asked.

Nick leaned forward, crossing his arms over the table between them. A rush of something warm washed over her as the distance between diminished just barely. “He’s gone,” he said simply and with a dark glint to his brown eyes. “And he’s not coming back.”

Sabrina’s eyes widened a touch and Nick quickly rushed forward to correct himself once he realized what his words must have sounded like to her.

“Oh God—he’s not dead or anything. He just up and left after everything broke out,” Nick said. “Though Amalia did want to kill him.”

Sabrina laughed and slid her milkshake glass closer to her. Nick chuckled, too. “I like your mom,” she decided. “I’m glad I got to meet her.”

“Me too,” Nick said. "Even if it wasn't my intention for you to get pulled into a chaotic family dinner."

For a moment, she sat there, considering Nick as he fidgeted with the paper wrapper of his straw, spinning and looping it over his forefinger in a seemingly endless motion. It took a great deal of strength for her to not reach over and still his hand the way she would have done had it been a family member, a friend, perhaps anyone other than Nick.

“Can I ask you a question?” she requested instead and his hand stilled all the same.

“Ask away, Spellman,” Nick offered.

“Why are you so reserved when it comes to your family?” she asked.

Nick’s brow furrowed slightly. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Sabrina pressed, but gently so. Nick held her gaze. “I’ve known you since I was seven. Do you remember when I met you in the bookstore?”

He gave her a half-smile that made it clear he remembered. She recalled seeing that smile for the very first time that day, too, when she’d pull him out from under the register. She’d held his hand as he’d hesitantly pet Vinegar Tom, and she didn’t let it go until Zelda made them leave. From then on, she’d begged and pleaded and threw tantrums in order to convince her aunts to take her to the bookstore more often. Sometimes she saw Nick, sometimes she didn’t. But each time, she’d check under the register, anyway.

“I remember you knew no boundaries—not even then,” Nick teased.

Sabrina kicked him lightly under the table. “Whatever, Nick.” With a playful eye-roll, she continued, “Anyway—maybe I didn’t know you all that well then, and we were kids, but then we started middle school and you transferred in from being home-schooled and we were friends. Yet outside of your sisters, I’ve never heard you say anything about your family. And I ragged to you—a lot—about my aunts and Ambrose anytime they made me mad.”

The very first day that Nick had strolled into their 6th-grade classroom, Sabrina recognized him immediately, even if it had been a while since she’d last seen him. His hair had been neat that day, his eyes curious and a little worried. Due to the nature of their last names, she hadn’t had to ask to have him sit beside her. They’d been assigned beside one another that day and going forward in any class they shared. Harvey, Theo, and Roz were always placed further away, so she and Nick quickly became friends.

Sabrina could remember the countless times she’d stormed into their classroom, huffing and puffing as she dropped into her seat. He’d always ask how she was, and Sabrina would unload whatever was bothering her, even if it meant talking about how angry her aunt had made her at breakfast that morning. Nick always listened, but he’d never mentioned his mom or dad or whoever he lived with.

The Nick in front of her was quiet, pursing his lips in a way that told her he was thinking of the proper way to phrase what he wanted to say. “It’s…I don’t care if people judge me,” he began, “but I care when they judge Amalia.”

“I would never judge you, Nick…” Sabrina said softly, feeling a bit hurt that he would think so.

“I know,” Nick assured. “I know _you_ wouldn’t, but other people have and...” He paused briefly. “It’s just easier not to give people things to talk about. Greendale’s too small of a town for people to keep their opinions to themselves. It’s become a habit.”

That time, Sabrina’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What would people judge Amalia for?” she asked. From the short encounter she’d had with her, his mom had seemed nice. It was evident that she cared for her adoptive kids, and it didn’t make sense that someone would find any reason to judge her.

Nick shrugged and looked somewhat uncomfortable. Sabrina promised herself she would stop prying after this. “I don’t know…Some people think she’s this incredibly charitable person because she adopted us, a group of orphans. Other people think she’s crazy for doing it alone, as a single mother. Really, she’s just a normal person who gave us somewhere to live.” Sabrina nodded. A home. A family. Everyone deserved one of those. “She’s not a saint, and she’s not crazy. She’s just…a mom.”

Sabrina smiled warmly at him. She understood Nick all too well. There had been judgments cast at her own family, but she had always been one to let it roll off her back. People judged her aunts, the home she lived in, what they did for a living, and practically everything else they could, even if the Greendale residents were mostly friendly.

“People will always want to pick apart things they don’t understand. It’s your family. Just the way mine is mine. I’d be the last person to judge you on yours. And all of the other people that have? Well, they’re not important,” she insisted.

A quiet smile rose to his lips. Sabrina admired the way his eyes crinkled a bit at the corners. It made her own smile grow.

“No, they’re not,” Nick decided.

Sabrina held up her half-empty milkshake glass. There was a flutter of something new, something fresh, that brushed up within her, as soft as a moth’s wing. An understanding, a hope for something she once had deemed unattainable. “I was an ass before, and I’m really sorry for that,” she began, “but I’d like it if we could be friends, Nick. Actual friends.”

He matched her motion, clanking his glass against hers. A tiny spark of surrender, ringing like a vein of lightning over what she had once considered a battlefield between them. It was now that she understood: Nick had never been fighting her, rather it had been himself he’d been at war with. And maybe finally, he was letting up.

“I’d like that, too,” he agreed.

*

The following morning was cooler, the mountain air having chilled the previous evening to a comfortable degree. Sabrina sat in a worn chair on the Spellman porch, sighing softly as the gentle breeze lifted her hair off her neck, and gazing out at the lawn where the morning dew had coated the grass like one of Hilda’s sweet, sugary glazes. A mug of coffee dangled from her fingers, smelling faintly of the maple syrup she liked to stir into it.

Sabrina felt perfectly at peace. The weather was nice, all of her friends were in town at the same time, she was enjoying Greendale, and…She and Nick were friends. Just as they had been before everything came to a halt. Even better now, because Nick had opened up to her. She had spent so much time disliking him that she hadn’t even realized how much she’d missed him.

Her peace was suddenly disturbed when Salem came hurtling out of the opened front door to her right—a shadow flying through the air with an indistinguishable item in his mouth. He was quick and she likely wouldn’t have noticed him at all had it not been for the clamoring of whatever was following him. The old floorboards of the mortuary creaked as Ambrose came tumbling out, shouting and hollering and swinging his fist like a grumpy old man. Sabrina stood in a hurry, startled, as she watched her cousin dip and dodge across the lawn in an attempt to catch her cat.

“Thieving bastard—stole the muffin right out of my hand!” he shouted, pulling a smile from her. Ambrose enjoyed pretending he didn’t like Salem, and Salem certainly seemed to enjoy irking him more than anyone else in the house, but she had also found them both snuggled up and asleep on the couch together on more than one occasion, so Sabrina had deemed their relationship as ‘complicated.’

“You probably don’t want to eat a muffin covered in cat slobber so just let him have it,” Sabrina called out.

“It’s the principle!” Ambrose insisted. “If I let him win he’ll think theft is smiled upon in this household.”

Sabrina just shook her head as she wandered over to lean against the railing. It gave her a brilliant view of the lawn, just in time to watch Ambrose slip on the wet grass and land—rather painfully, it seemed—on his back in a disgruntled heap. There was a huff as the wind was knocked out of him, and then he just laid there, staring upward at the vast sky. For a second, Sabrina wondered if he was even alive.

“Help,” he mumbled pitifully a moment later. Sabrina laughed and went for the stairs. Salem left his muffin behind and ran off to chase a butterfly, deciding that it would make for a more thrilling challenge.

“That’s what you get for thinking you can outrun a—” The rest of her sentence stretched out into a cry as she, too, skidded across the slippery lawn and into a pile beside her cousin. Pain induced stars sparkled across the pale blue sky overhead and Sabrina groaned.

“You were saying?” Ambrose asked.

“Ugh, my head…” Sabrina grumbled, pressing her palm to a spot near the back of her head where she was sure a lump would form later.

Ambrose also painfully grumbled, “My muffin…” and then, with a little less enthusiasm added on, “my less important tailbone…”

Slowly, they started to laugh, until Sabrina couldn’t make out what hurt worse: her head or her stomach. They laid there for some time, Salem running in circles around them, pouncing every which way in an attempt to snag the yellow butterfly fluttering about. Her coffee grew cold and forgotten on the porch table when Sabrina finally spoke, glancing over at her cousin who was staring up at the slow-passing clouds.

“Nick and I are friends,” she revealed.

“That’s nice,” Ambrose said. “Did the pair of you declare so on your date?”

“Not a date,” Sabrina defended. “A rightfully earned milkshake between friends.”

“Ah,” Ambrose exhaled. “Did you want it to be a date?”

Sabrina’s voice came out hot and not sounding like her own, riddled with something she couldn’t quite place. Surely not denial. _“No,”_ she insisted.

“Did _Nick_ want it to be a date?”

“Did you hit your head, too?” Sabrina wondered aloud as she inwardly blamed her red cheeks on their laughing fit.

“Possibly, cousin. I’ve been wondering so myself…” he wondered off with a deep exhale.

She shot him a confused look. Ambrose turned to her with a look of curious fear, the same sort that peppered the minds of children who crept off to investigate the knocks and taps that sounded in the middle of the night. He looked thoroughly spooked, and a little regretful. “I think I might love Prudence…At least, I told her so.”

Sabrina rolled onto her stomach, grass sticking to her shoulders and hair. “What?” she squawked, causing Salem to look her way. “You did? You _do?_ When?”

Ambrose shut his eyes tightly as though he had no desire to replay the memory. Sabrina looked on, blinking and eagerly awaiting. “Last night when I met her at her place after she returned from dinner with her family.”

“How did she respond?”

“Her words were: ‘How could you possibly think that?’ and then she looked at me like I’d ruined everything,” Ambrose said. He ran a hand over his forehead and down his face, sighing as he did. “It’s just dawned on me that I probably _have_ ruined everything.”

“Oh, Ambrose…” Sabrina breathed. “I’m sure you didn’t. Perhaps it was just too early for her.”

“I’ve only loved four people my entire life: the aunties, you, and my mum,” Ambrose said. “I thought if I could love my mum, as awful as she is, how could I not love someone like Prudence, as wonderful as she is? That’s _why_ I said it.”

Her heart clenched. Ambrose’s mother was not a very good woman, at least not in Sabrina’s eyes. Not in the eyes of the aunts’, either.

After Ambrose’s father passed when he was just a small boy, his mother had allowed the aunties to temporarily take him while she returned to her footing. Losing her husband had caused a great deal of grief, and a young, rambunctious boy was a lot to handle at a time like that, but that was not why Sabrina disliked her. It was because she had never returned for him. Her son.

Years later, when Ambrose had finally managed to get into contact with her, he’d found out that she’d gotten remarried and had started an entirely new family with a man in London. One that had little room for him, and much less desire. He had pretended not to be hurt when he found out, but Sabrina could read him well enough to know that it had chipped away at him for a long time to come.

Ambrose still loved her enough to send her a card every Christmas. One for her birthday, too. Sabrina knew her cousin felt shame for still loving his mother as much as he did, after all she had done.

The aunties had raised Ambrose and Sabrina with love, which left very little to be desired. There had been no shortage of care in the home. Except, the heart was still a curious and insatiable thing. Sabrina understood as much, having grown up under an abundance of love, yet still wondering how different her life would have been had her parents survived. She knew Ambrose felt the same whenever he thought of his mom.

Sabrina found his hand and squeezed it. “Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you, Ambrose. I hope Prudence sees that.”

Ambrose opened his mouth to say something, but Zelda appeared as a blot of darkness atop Spellman porch, calling out and interrupting them. She didn’t yell, but her voice carried all the same.

“Have the two of you lost whatever remaining minds you have? Enough dilly-dallying in the dirt, there are chores to be done and the table still hasn’t been cleared away from breakfast!”

When she spun around to head back inside, her red hair glinting in the sunlight, Sabrina and Ambrose smiled at one another. They scrambled to their feet in a fit of laughter and playful shoves and followed her in, just as they had a million times in the past, just as they would a million more times to come. No matter which way they went, or how old they got, home was still the spooky house on a hill, tucked away deep into the Greendale wood.

"I'm going to blame it on you," Ambrose said as they jogged up the steps. "For staying out late with your boy-comma-friend last night and leaving me with all of the dishes from dinner."

Sabrina hurried after him. "You lost your breakfast to a _cat_ and then fell on your ass, you don't get to blame anyone for anything!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Sabrina are officially friends, which means we obviously at the 'friends' stage in the enemies-to-friends-to-lovers fiasco. Also, we got some Ambrose back-story in this universe and some trouble in Pambrose-Paradise. 
> 
> Next chapter, we go to Sweetwater River for a day of fun!
> 
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought if you'd like to!


	15. sweet amber honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Hope everyone is well.

*

It was nearly three days later when Nick saw Sabrina again. She and Theo had come trudging into the bookstore like two very tiny hurricanes, weaving through the shelves in search of him—Theo with a giant, bright orange swim tube around his shoulders, and her in a big floppy sun-hat, the siren red shoulder strap of her bikini top peeking out from under her cover-up.

At the register, Sabrina had proceeded to violently smash the bell despite the fact that he’d been sitting right in front of her. She hadn’t stopped until he’d lowered his book and looked at her.

“Why would I go to Sweetwater?” Nick found himself asking after they’d proceeded to badger him for several minutes. “You know they found a body there once. That kid from Riverdale.”

Sabrina immediately opened her mouth to protest. “We go to Sweetwater nearly every year—”

“—and we’ve yet to come across a single dead body,” Theo finished proudly.

Nick squinted, dropping his legs from where he’d had them propped up on the counter. “That’s a neat accomplishment, but it’s not exactly my setting so...”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we kind of figured that Mr. Nice Car and stylish clothes, but we thought just maybe you’d want to slum it with us for a day and come swimming.”

“I can’t,” Nick said. He circled his finger in the air beside him, motioning to their surroundings. “I’m working.”

Sabrina’s lipstick-free mouth went into a pout, the sort that Nick had seen more than once in the past. It meant that she was scheming, trying to figure out a way to get what she wanted. With a huff, she reached over the counter and plucked his book from his hand, and Nick watched, in absolute horror, as she slammed it shut, effectively losing his spot.

“Sabrina—”

“You own the place. Just close for the day,” Sabrina suggested. She then made a grand gesture of heading to the front of the store and flipping the sign from ‘open’ to ‘close.’ She turned back with a smug expression. “There. Problem solved.”

“Hey,” Nick said, sitting up. “You can’t do that.”

“I just did, Nick.” She stuck her hands onto her hips. “What are you going to do about it?”

Nick stood up and flipped the sign back into place. “I’m going to open my store and go back to work.”

Without breaking eye contact, Sabrina reached out and, once more, flipped the sign. She smiled sweetly, but underneath it was a red, threatening heat that drew Nick to unintentionally take a step closer. A long, uninterrupted second of silence hung in the air between them as they continued to stare at one another, both unrelenting.

“Wow,” Theo marveled. “Cool of you guys to make me feel like a third wheel. Can we please go to the river?”

Nick withdrew his book from Sabrina’s distracted grasp and sidestepped around the pair of them, retreating quickly to his previous spot. He didn’t look at Sabrina’s face. He knew Theo was only kidding, but part of him didn’t want to see the distaste that was likely lingering in her expression at his words. “Have a great time. I’m not going.”

“Come on,” Sabrina sighed. “We have a tradition, Nick, the four of us. We go to Sweetwater to catch up and have fun while we’re all here, and since you’re friends with Theo and I, we’d really like it if you could go.”

He noticed the emphasis she put on the word ‘friend’ as a way of shutting down Theo’s previous statement. Nick felt elated, but maybe even a little disappointed.

“It would mean a lot,” Sabrina added a moment later, sincerely.

Nick didn’t have a chance to reply before the door to the bookstore swung open, hinges squeaking wildly as it hit the wall, the windows rattling. Sabrina and Theo jumped. Nick cringed at the sight of Melvin.

“Can I work today?” Melvin asked as soon as he spotted Nick. “Dorcas and I broke up.”

“Again?” Nick asked. “That’s like…the seventh time this month.”

“Eighth,” Melvin corrected with a sullen expression. “It’s real this time. I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Damn, I’d love to listen but I was actually just leaving,” Nick lied, and then hastily turned to Sabrina and Theo with a look that said, _“take me wherever the hell you want.”_

*

Sabrina held steadfast to the strap of her beach bag as she was nearly lifted off her feet. She looked up and saw Nick trying to ease the bag off her shoulder, and proceeded to look embarrassed. “I really can carry it by myself,” she insisted.

“Absolutely,” Nick said without a hint of doubt in his voice. “It’s just that I’m not carrying anything and you’re carrying something almost twice your size. I don’t mind helping.”

Sabrina surveyed him for a moment. They’d stopped at his place, Theo and her choosing to wait downstairs by the car while he went up and changed quickly. He had on a pair of black swim trunks and a gray t-shirt now. His ebony hair was closer to brown under the golden sunlight. She relented and handed the bag over, grumbling, “Fine.”

Nick smiled and hoisted the bag over his shoulder with ease and they followed Theo down the small, winding path toward the river’s bank.

“There you are!” Roz called excitedly from down further. She seemed to study Nick from afar for several seconds, before she finally greeted him with a careful, “Hi, Nick.” He waved back awkwardly.

“Is that Brina?” another voice asked. Harvey wandered out from behind a tree. The excited expression fell from his face when he saw Nick. “Oh.”

“Hey, Harvey, Roz,” Sabrina greeted cheerfully as they approached. “Glad you guys could make it, too.”

Nick stopped before Harvey and there was a palpable air of distaste between them. Sabrina resisted the urge to sigh deeply. So _that_ was still a thing.

“Hey, Scratch,” Harvey said. Sabrina recognized that voice. It was the same tone Harvey used whenever someone got his order wrong at a restaurant. There was an overlaying layer of politeness, with a hint of displeasure beneath. But he was never outright mean because that wasn’t Harvey.

“Hi,” Nick said cordially, and then, because he just couldn’t seem to hold it back, he added, “Harry.”

“Kiss my ass,” Harvey said plainly and Sabrina widened her eyes. So much for Harvey not being mean, she realized. “You know my name.”

“Maybe if you had some,” Nick said. “Seriously, I’ve seen hatchbacks with more trunk—”

“Okay!” Sabrina interrupted, clapping her hands together. “Shall we go set up? Nick, you want to come with me?”

“Harvey, why don’t we try to get the umbrella put up?” Roz suggested, as well.

“Robin and I can bring the cooler out,” Theo said, taking a hold of his boyfriend’s hand and promptly dipping out.

*

Nick stared out into the wide river, trying to see the other side. It was a blurred mess of trees, and the sunlight glinting off the water made it hard to see anything. Sabrina was seated beside him, his discarded shirt a gray lump at her side as she rubbed sunscreen onto her legs. Not that Nick was looking.

“You should still put on a little,” Sabrina suggested in a very authoritative tone. “Just in case.”

“Nah.”

“Nick.”

“Make me,” Nick joked, becoming thoroughly surprised when she actually sighed and moved to sit up. She grasped the bottle of sunscreen and shifted until she was sitting behind him.

“You’re kind of a pain, but I’m not going to let you burn, so I’ll get your back and shoulders. You can take care of the rest,” Sabrina said. He heard her shake the bottle and then uncap it, and Nick sat up suddenly, realizing she was serious.

“I’m not going to burn,” Nick insisted. The sun in Greendale never seemed to shine hard enough to damage his fairly resilient olive skin. Although, it wasn’t as though Nick cared to spend all that much time sitting outside baking in the sun anyway. His eyes grew large when he glanced back and noted the amount of sunscreen she’d squeezed out into her palm. “That’s kind of overkill, Spellman.”

“Shh,” Sabrina shushed before she slapped her hands down on his shoulders and began to massage the cream in. Nick went straight as a board for a second, but it was hard not to relax when her fingers seemed to press down in all the right spots, and hey, he wasn’t going to complain. “Also, can you please be nice to Harvey?”

“Be nice to Harry. Sure. Whatever,” Nick drawled, watching the clouds cast shadows over the river as they floated by.

“I’m serious,” Sabrina pressed. “I want you two to get along. I don’t know why you never have.”

“Maybe because he’s as dumb as rocks,” Nick said and then added, “no offense.”

Sabrina sighed. “Remember when you said I was insufferable?”

“I said ‘no offense,’” Nick defended. She didn’t say anything, but he could tell she was shaking her head disapprovingly. It made him smile.

Thinking to himself, he was glad Sabrina was his friend again, and he had to admit, he had missed talking to her. But even more, he had missed the quiet moments when they’d just sat together. On the track. Her studying, him immersed in his book. Often, she’d glanced over at him just to smile, and Nick had always liked that. He’d liked it so much he’d never forgotten it.

Her fingers moved along his shoulders in an appropriately platonic way, until she applied pressure to the spot near his neck.

And then Nick moaned.

It was quiet, more like a timid groan. Not louder than the scrape of the nearby river, but loud enough for it to be apparent between the two of them.

His eyes shot open, horrified. A hundred thoughts raced through his head as her hands stilled on his shoulders, thumb resting on the junction of his neck. Apparently, a sensitive spot for him. What a totally cool and normal way to find that out.

In the partial silence between them, Nick contemplated jumping into the river and floating on down into a new town, perhaps taking refuge in a cottage somewhere and reinventing himself as the guy who didn’t make things weird, but he knew Harvey with his nice-person qualities would probably do something stupid like jump in and save him. And then Nick would have to pretend to be indebted to a guy who thought comics were better than books—possibly for the rest of his life.

Sabrina finally spoke, giving his shoulder a soft pat that nearly made him jump. “Sorry,” she said. In his chest, his heart began to race. “Did I nick you with my nail or something?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Nick agreed hastily and with a firm nod of his head, further punctuating it by adding, “ouch.”

Sabrina moved again, coming around to face him, her hands splayed out before her. She seemed oblivious and he was grateful. “There’s some extra on my hands—do you mind if I—” And Nick barely had the time to register what was going on before she was leaning in and touching his face, fully in ‘must help’ mode she often went into. “I forgot my face once and Ambrose called me a tomato for weeks. It really hurt, too.”

“Uh-huh,” was all Nick said, was all Nick could say.

He willed himself to please, for God’s sake, act normal, but then he looked at her face.

Before, whenever Nick had been this close to Sabrina’s face, it had been in the midst of a kiss. His eyes had always been closed then, his mind lost, but he wasn’t kissing Sabrina now—he never would again—so he thought it would be weird to close his eyes. But he didn’t know where else to look. Her own eyes were focused on her task, the tip of her tongue pinched between her front teeth as she concentrated.

He settled on her freckles, the barely-there traces of them that he’d only now noticed. Nick began to count them because otherwise, he would have to look at her eyes, and that would make him remember how muddled they were. How they weren’t just brown, but slightly green, too. Muted, like the greens of the forest. Like the thick moss that veined the nearby boulders.

 _One, two, three, four,_ Nick started to count, eyes dotting over each little freckle, _tone it down man, don’t be a fucking whore._

Her fingers swiped gently across his cheeks—tenderly. Then, she was gone. “There,” Sabrina said, pulling back and rubbing the residual cream into her hands. “You’re safe, Scratch.”

“Okay,” Nick said, sounding normal outside but feeling entirely bewildered on the inside. He was used to being tugged every which way, pulled in whatever direction was most desired—and he didn’t hate it, no, but he was rarely handled delicately. Sabrina had touched him so softly, and she hadn’t even meant it. That was just how she was.

“Brina!” Roz suddenly called from some feet away. “Help me set up the umbrella?”

“Sure!” Sabrina shouted back. She turned to Nick and handed him the bottle of sunscreen. “Here, you can get everywhere else.”

She turned and headed toward Roz, the breeze billowed the loose fabric of her swim cover-up back toward him, and he watched her go.

Suddenly, Harvey appeared, breaking through the center of the group, carrying Theo’s tiny frame. He held him perpendicular to his own body, arms tucked under his stomach, with Theo holding his arms out before him in a diving position.

“Harvey’s going to throw me in the water as hard as he can,” Theo declared.

“I’m going to throw him in the water using a reasonable amount strength,” Harvey corrected and they propelled forward, Robin trailing behind them with a heavy air of concern surrounding him.

“Is that smart?” Robin asked. “There are rocks at the bottom…”

“Roz brought her medkit,” Theo assured.

“The med kit’s for emergencies!” Roz shouted. “Don’t you dare give me a reason to use it!”

“Yeah,” Sabrina said in agreement as she fumbled with the umbrella. “Save it for when we swing off the trees later.”

“I was hoping we could save ‘swinging off the trees’ for never, Brina,” Harvey suggested from the edge of the river, where he proceeded to gently plop Theo into the water. He popped up from the surface seconds later, looking disgruntled and disappointed.

“You ever thought about not being a total dad, Harv?” Theo asked. “For once in your life?”

“Yeah,” Sabrina repeated, and Nick watched as she hurled all of her weight onto the handle of the umbrella, forcefully unjamming it. It unfurled suddenly, nearly taking both Roz and her out with it. She giggled as they collected themselves, looking sheepish. “Sorry!”

“Hold on to that medkit, Roz…please,” Harvey said desperately.

*

Sabrina bobbed in the water in front of Nick with a satisfied smile. They’d finished setting up towels and umbrella, and the group was now settled in the cool river water, suspended to their shoulders.

“Dunk your head in, Nick, it’s very refreshing,” she suggested.

“I’m good,” Nick said.

“Are you scared of messing up your hair?” she asked, her own wet hair sticking to her neck, the white having dulled to a near gray from the weight of the water. She pressed forward, teasing him relentlessly. “I forgot how much Nick Scratch cares about the state of his hair—it has to be perfect.”

“Mm,” Nick hummed with a small smirk, urging her to continue.

“God forbid anyone see him—” she pretended to look surprised, _“—disheveled.”_

“You’re funny,” he said.

“I know,” Sabrina said. “Want to know what else is funny?” She tried very hard to hide the evil glint she was certain had risen to her face. Nick looked back at her suspiciously, but the expression was short lived when she shoved a wave of water at him, dousing him and his perfect hair.

“You’re going to regret that,” Nick said, raking a hand through his now wet hair.

Sabrina only giggled.

She saw a hint of that devilish smile, right before he splashed her back. Except Nick was bigger, and the wave that he set at her was enough to drench her entirely.

When she opened her eyes, he was gone.

“Nick?” she asked, looking around as she wiped the water from her face. The dark waters of the river made it nearly impossible to see beneath its surface.

“Where’d he go?” Theo asked, turning away from his conversation with Robin, Roz, and Harvey.

“Maybe the current got him and we’ll never see him again,” Harvey suggested with a shrug. “Oh well.”

“Harvey,” Sabrina grumbled, but her eyes remained on the water as she turned slowly in a circle. There was no sign of him, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little worried over the possibility of losing a whole person at the river. Seemingly into thin air, at that.

There was a wave of quiet that settled over the group as they all tried to sort out where Nick had gone. Sabrina felt an arm wrap around her waist beneath the surface of the water. She barely had a second to react before it pulled her under. Seconds later, she emerged, sputtering, to see Nick smugly staring back at her and Theo laughing louder than necessary. Roz was smiling, and even Harvey looked like he was trying not to grin.

“Don’t test me in the water, Spellman,” Nick said, brushing back his wet curls. He winked at her. “I can hold my breath for four minutes. I’ll always win.”

“That’s a weird thing to do be good at,” Harvey commented.

Nick shrugged. “It comes in handy,” he said, causing Harvey to stare back at him in quiet—slightly horrified—confusion.

“You’re practically a fish,” Theo said. “Hey, we’ve got a medic and now a lifeguard—let’s go swing from the trees.”

Sabrina perked up, dropping the scheme she had been plotting in revenge. She hooked her arms around Theo’s shoulders and declared, “to the big tree!” The pair of them swam off toward a large tree stationed near the edge of the river, its large, thick branch hanging in over the water. There was a haphazardly tied rope hanging from it. Robin followed them.

“I’ll get the medkit,” Roz said with a sigh, as she, too, swam off toward the edge, leaving Harvey stationed with Nick in the water.

Within minutes, Theo was dangling from the rope while Sabrina walked the branch like a plank, balancing delicately on it.

“Oh God,” she heard Harvey say from below. Nick stared up, and from afar, she saw his eyebrows go up. Maybe in concern, maybe in wonder. He swam up closer, and Sabrina wondered if he planned to catch her.

Theo jumped first, swinging off his rope and cannonballing into the water below with a shout. She waited for him to move before she ran up the rest of the branch and dove off. The air scraped against her skin and whistled in her ears on the way down, and then, the cold water enveloped her again. There were muffled echos of voices as she followed the light up to the surface. A hand extended out before her. She grabbed it.

Every time she had done so in the past, she’d always bobbed up from the water in front of Harvey. Always. This time, when she broke the gentle surface of the river, she saw Nick.

“Hi,” he said so that only she heard.

She smiled back and held steadfast to his hand.

*

They sat in a circle on the riverbank, draped in towels, and sipping on beers and sodas. Roz was patting a band-aid onto Theo’s scraped knee, despite his fussing. Harvey hovered, gentling reminding him that he probably shouldn’t been running over the slippery rocks along the water, to begin with.

Sabrina plopped down beside Nick, a towel wrapped around her shoulders like a blanket. Despite the sunscreen she’d applied to her face earlier, she could feel the warmth on her cheeks and nose, a clear sign that she had acquired a sun burn. She passed a can of soda to Nick, and then pressed hers against her face, sighing in relief as the cold exterior touched her heated skin.

“You shouldn’t have been worried about me earlier,” Nick said, seemingly unharmed from the sun.

“It’s only because I forgot to reapply,” Sabrina huffed, and Nick chuckled. A deep, warm sound that made her smile despite her displeasure. “It could be worse.” It was a minor burn, after all, and would likely clear up within a week or so.

She adjusted herself to sit more comfortably and cracked open her drink. They were quiet for a few moments, her looking over at him, trying to read him. His hair was a mess, curling into his face. Before, she’d always thought he’d looked more handsome like that. She’d told him so, once or twice. And even now, her fingers itched to reach out and smooth through his locks.

“So,” Sabrina said instead. “Do you think you want to be part of our tradition for years to come?”

Nick glanced her way, his eyes a lovely shade of caramel in the dying sunlight, unlike their usual dark brown. He shrugged gently, his shirt snug over his frame again now that they had essentially dried off and packed up, but the lingering dampness clung to his exposed skin like honey. “How do you keep that tradition up if all of you aren’t in the same place all the time?”

“We make time to come back for a week or so—at least—in the summer. And if not, if we have to skip a year, we always try again the next,” Sabrina said, noticing he’d avoided answering her question. She slid a little closer to him. “What do you say, Nick?”

“I don’t know, Spellman,” Nick said. “These are your friends…I think this is something for the four of you, and it doesn’t feel right to just…include me.”

“Robin’s here,” Sabrina reminded.

“Right, because he’s with Theo,” Nick said.

“And you’re with me,” Sabrina said, and then very quickly corrected to say, “you’re my friend.” She smiled. “And Theo’s friend, too. Roz is still pending, and well, I don’t think you and Harvey will ever be able to do anything more than just passively share the same space.”

He smiled at her, and she was reminded of the night in front of the Greendale welcome sign. It was a real, genuine smile. One that made her feel warm.

“Okay,” Nick said finally. “I’ll tag along when I can. If that’s what you want.”

Sabrina smiled, pressing the lip of the can of soda to her mouth to hide it. “Come on, you have to at least admit you had fun.”

Nick bumped his shoulder against hers, jostling her playfully. “Fine, I had fun. Happy?”

“Maybe,” Sabrina said. “I think I need you to jump off the big tree to prove it.”

Nick laughed. “No way. That’s all you, little daredevil.”

“What if I jumped with you?” Sabrina asked.

“I’ll stay at the bottom,” he decided. “Just in case you need someone to catch you.”

“I guess that’s wise,” Sabrina relented. “There was that one time I fell. I was fine, but Harvey insisted we cancel and go to the hospital. Something about a possible concussion, I don’t really remember…”

“You don’t remember because you did have a concussion,” Theo said as he passed by to get to the cooler. “Zelda was so mad, too, when she found out. All because Harvey snitched and told her.”

“Huh?” Harvey asked from afar, having heard the sound of his name but seemingly nothing else.

“I was just asking if you want a soda,” Theo lied, holding up a can.

“Oh, sure,” Harvey replied, and then Theo was off, shooting Nick and Sabrina smirk on his way.

When she looked back at Nick, he was cringing, probably at the idea of her falling off the tree. She realized he was likely regretting telling her to go for it.

Sabrina had never been scared, not even after she’d fallen. That day, she’d slipped going up and had landed on her side in the mud on the bank of the river. It had mostly cushioned her fall, but she had hit her head pretty hard. Despite it, she still climbed the tree every year, or at least, whenever they made it out the river. It was almost a tradition of her own at this point.

“Want to know something?” she asked Nick out of the blue. He’d shared something personal with her the night of their milkshake outing, and she had appreciated it. She thought if he was to be included in their river trips, then he probably should know why they were a thing, to begin with.

Nick looked back at her inquisitively, willing her to continue.

“This is where my dad proposed to my mom,” Sabrina said. “Well, not here exactly, but the river. It was one of my mom’s favorite places to go. My aunts say when she and my dad were first stepping into a relationship, she would always ask my dad to come and take a walk with her down the bank. When he decided he wanted to marry her, he knew exactly where he wanted to ask her.”

When she looked back at Nick, his expression had softened.

“My mom was a musician. She sang me to sleep every night and woke me up the same way. She played the piano. I still have the sheet music she composed. My aunts gave it to me on my sixteenth,” Sabrina continued to share. “My dad was a lawyer, and they really couldn’t have been any more different. But they both loved their walks down the river. It was something special they shared—just the two of them.”

“That’s why you like to come here,” Nick realized.

Sabrina nodded. “Yes. I know it’s a little reckless of me to hurl myself off the biggest tree here instead of using the rope like a reasonable person,” she said with a small laugh, “but I like to remind myself, time to time, that I’m still alive. My mom will never get to sing again, and my dad will never be able to help another person, but I’m still here. And I want to honor this place they loved by keeping it special. Something I can share with some of my favorite people.”

Nick was quiet, but he stared back at her with quiet sincerity, and a hint of confusion, almost like he wasn’t certain where his part was in the whole thing.

“That’s why I wanted you to come, too, Nick. You’re special to me, too. We messed up before, and I don’t want that again. I want us to be good again.”

The sun was a small, golden ball of light, hovering at the edge of the horizon by the time they hiked back up the trail again that evening. Nick held his hand out to her, like an offering of sorts, an agreement, and Sabrina understood. They both wanted the same thing.

She kept a hold of it the whole way back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you thought if you'd like to!


	16. goodbye marge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two buuuuds, sitting in a booth at cee's literally inches because they're 100% in denial!
> 
> (please congratulate me for posting on time LMAO i am really trying i swear!)

*

Sabrina stared at the pile of junk that had once been something of a vehicle. A particularly crappy looking one, but a reliable vehicle nonetheless. Now, the back bumper was entirely crumpled, bowing and hanging by a single invisible thread of luck. The slash of bright blue paint from the equally unlucky truck that had rear-ended her glimmered ironically in the sunlight like some sort of cruel, abstract artwork meant to taunt her further.

She swallowed back the lump in her throat and forced away her tears when the black shadow of a car slid onto the grassy shoulder just as the officer pulled away. Nick exited in a hurried blur, not bothering to shut off the engine or close the door as he made his way over to her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, brown eyes surveying her, hands on either side of her like he wanted to grab her and check her over himself.

“I’m okay, Nick,” Sabrina assured. “I’m sorry to call you. Ambrose is at the café and Harvey’s out of town. Theo’s not picking up and my aunts—”

Nick was ready to respond, but an older man in a flannel shirt and worn-out jeans stopped beside him just before he could. “I’m sorry again, Miss. Do you want me to stay and wait for the tow with you?”

“That’s ok—”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Nick interjected, spinning around to face the man. There was a bite to his voice that Sabrina hadn’t ever really heard from him before. “You don’t watch where you’re going?”

“It’s not his fault,” Sabrina reassured, stepping closer. “A deer flew out in front of me and I had to brake. He couldn’t stop in time…It was an honest mistake.”

“Yeah, generally if you keep a reasonable distance things like that don’t happen,” Nick argued, not breaking eye contact with the poor man who now looked equal parts shocked and uncomfortable.

The man held up his hands in an attempt to reason with Nick. “You’re right, son, I should’ve been paying attention. Can’t take that back now, but thankfully your girlfriend is just fine.”

That only seemed to make Nick angrier, the corners of his frown tugging down further. He raised his finger and opened his mouth, but before he could continue to unleash his wrath on the stranger, Sabrina stepped in. She placed her smaller frame in front of him, back against his chest while he continued to glare over the top of her head.

“I’m perfectly fine. It seems you are, too, sir. Mistakes happen and we’re all sorted out here, I think. Why don’t you head out? We’ve got it from here,” Sabrina suggested politely.

“Sure, miss. Sorry again. You’ve got my info just in case. Feel free to contact me for any reason.” He made sure to send another apologetic look in Nick’s direction. He didn’t respond. It was only after the man left in his still functional truck that she turned to face him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, the edges of his displeased expression feathering off into something softer.

“I’m fine, Nick. I promise. I didn’t bump my head or anything.”

“We should probably stop by the hospital just in case,” Nick suggested.

“Yeah, let’s just swing by for a quick MRI…”

Nick nodded and made an immediate move toward his car, an idea seemingly going off in his head. “Good idea.”

“Nick,” Sabrina squawked, causing him to stop and look back at her. “That was a joke.”

“This isn’t something to joke about, Sabrina,” Nick snapped, waving a hand at her car. Sabrina flinched, both at his tone and the sight of her poor Marge. “You could have been seriously hurt!”

She moved closer to him, realizing very quickly just how serious Nick was. There was panic in his expression, and she could tell he was desperately trying not to let her see it. “Nick…”

“You could have been hurt,” Nick repeated, quieter this time but just as dire.

“But I’m not,” Sabrina said gently, taking the hands that were balled up into fists at his sides. His fingers unraveled cautiously to take hers, and she led him to place his hands on her shoulders. It seemed to calm him, and Sabrina felt the sudden ball of tension in her gut begin to ease up as well. “I don’t…I’m not sure what’s going on, but look…I’m perfectly fine, Nick. I promise.”

He stared at her for some time, keeping a hold of her. She gave him a cautious smile.

“Okay,” he said, sounding more like himself once again. It was then that he began to look embarrassed. “Okay…I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?” she asked gently. She hadn’t expected him to get so worked up over a fairly minor accident.

Nick nodded, but didn’t speak. Sabrina squeezed his hands once before letting go.

She motioned with her chin toward where the tow had begun pulling in. “I’m going to go over there and say goodbye. Want to come with me? It’s okay if you’d rather wait in the car.”

Nick started to look perplexed. “Say goodbye? To the tow guy?”

“To Marge,” Sabrina said a little sadly. “It’s clear she’s not recovering from this. She’s retiring for good now.”

Nick confusion only grew. “Who the hell is Marge?” he asked, sounding clueless, and a little frightened, probably wondering if she had forgotten to tell him about a second passenger.

“Marge is—was—my car,” Sabrina sighed, going off ahead. “Come on, let’s go before they haul her off…”

Nick stalled, brow furrowed as though he was still missing a key point. He picked up his pace and caught up to her. “You named your car Marge?”

“Technically, Theo did,” Sabrina said without much of an explanation. She found the tow driver, filled him in with all the necessary information, and then wandered off to the back where she found Marge. She pressed a hand to the side of the car.

A wave of sadness overwhelmed her suddenly and she chewed on her lower lip to keep the tears that had threatened to spring safe inside. It was probably stupid, she thought, to cry over a car. But it wasn’t just a car. It was the last piece of her mother. It was been the very last thing she had unintentionally left Sabrina before she disappeared along with her father.

She closed her eyes and tried not to envision Marge as a sad hunk of metal on the side of the road, but as a new car. She imagined a woman in a pair of retro sunglasses at the driver's seat, the windows rolled down, the wind fluttering through her corn-silk hair. She imagined the man beside her, sneakily turning down the radio when she wasn’t paying attention because he had always preferred her singing voice to it. She imagined the pair of them speeding off down a sunlit highway, happy, never looking back.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Nick said awkwardly beside her. “But I’m here for you.” She felt the weight of his hand as it settled on her shoulder, thumb brushing just barely against the skin of her neck in a comforting manner.

“Thanks, Nick.”

She stood beside him and watched as the tow hauled Marge off. She felt like she was watching a friend leave for good.

“Goodbye, Marge. Enjoy car heaven,” Nick said, making Sabrina laugh softly despite her mood.

“Goodbye,” she added as well. The little red car grew smaller as it approached the horizon.

“Hey,” Nick said gently, a good minute or so after the tow disappeared and the pair of them were left standing at the edge of the empty highway. It suddenly seemed deathly quiet. “Where were you headed before this?”

“Just home,” Sabrina said with a sigh. “Roz and I went to some shops in Riverdale. She left to go meet with her dad. I was going to stop by Cee’s and grab something to take back to the mortuary, but I don’t think I have much of an appetite now.”

“How about a shake?” Nick asked, glancing at her. “I know you’re probably shaken up still, but you should try to eat something.”

Sabrina gave a slow nod, deciding to take him up on the offer. It was either that, or he would drive her home and she would sit in her room feeling sad while everyone else went about their day. It was too quiet at the Spellman mortuary right now for her to want to return there and all of her other friends were too busy to come by and distract her from the sorrows of crashing and ruining her dead mother’s car.

“Come on, then” Nick whispered, hooking two fingers gently around her elbow and pulling her back to reality. She gave a final long exhale and followed him to his car.

*

The ride over was quiet, the urge to poke at the fancy parts in the interior of Nick’s car like she had the day of their river outing was gone. He spent it periodically glancing over at her, opening and closing his mouth every now and again, but ultimately deciding not to say anything. He left the radio off in case she wanted to talk, and Sabrina thought he was likely confused, considering any other time she usually wouldn’t shut up.

At the diner, Sabrina’s milkshake sat untouched, condensation pooling at the bottom of the glass as the contents of it began to separate into a partially melted mess. The paper straw Cee had recently transitioned the diner over to in an effort to be more eco-friendly was close to disintegrating when Nick finally asked, carefully in that quiet voice of his, “Are you okay?”

“Do you remember your parents at all?” Sabrina asked suddenly. “Your birth parents, I mean.”

Nick appeared visibly shocked, and then, slightly uncomfortable. She stared at him, waiting.

“Yes,” he replied after a pause.

“I don’t remember mine,” Sabrina admitted, running her finger over a crack in the table absentmindedly as she focused on tamping down the heat that began to prick at her eyes again. “At all. Because I was still a baby when they died.”

Nick sat attentive but quiet at the other end of the table.

“And no matter how many stories my aunts tell, no matter how much they try to convince me that I’m just as stubborn as my dad, or that I sound like my mother, I’ll never know for sure. When I think about them, I can’t see their faces, because I don’t know what they looked like, not really. Sure, I have photos…but those are flat and one-dimensional and frankly, the second they’re out of my hands I forget again.”

Sabrina chewed on her lip and leaned forward on the table, elbows pressing against the laminate, her palms finding her face. She felt embarrassed and exposed, but she also felt very sad. She didn’t need to look at Nick to feel the waves of discomfort as they rolled off of him in thick, tangible ribbons, but she couldn’t stop now that she had begun. It was something she had held in for some time.

She couldn’t tell her aunties what she thought because she worried she would make them feel unloved and unappreciated. They’d done so much for her, and raised her as their own, even forgoing their own lives to account for hers. To make sure she had someone to take her to school. To pack her lunch with a note every day. To sit up late into the evenings helping her with her homework even though they had very little affection for elementary level math. To then collect and calm her down after she declared she hated math and threw all of her books to the floor in a tantrum.

Every year on her father’s birthday, Zelda buried herself in mortuary work and didn’t come out the entire day. Hilda baked a cake and added another candle each year, then she blew them out when she thought no one was looking. Those were the small things Sabrina noticed in her parents’ absences.

And well, how could she burden her aunts when they already carried that weight? How could she ask them for more stories, more detailed recollections, when it hurt them to remember, too? She was brave, but not _that_ brave.

“I just have…things,” Sabrina huffed, hiding her face behind her hands. “And things deteriorate, just like the car I smashed.”

“To be fair, Spellman…she was on her way out,” Nick said softly, in reference to Marge’s state pre-accident.

“Exactly!” Sabrina replied. “God, this is so weird. I asked you to pick me up, not sit down and watch me have an emotional breakdown over a car.”

Between the slits of her fingers, she saw Nick stand up, and she thought that was that. She’d wanted to be friends with Nick, but of course, she was too much too soon. Just like before. Her still slightly sun-burnt cheeks stung as the trickle of hot tears washed over them. She waited for the sound of the diner door opening, the sound of him making his exit, but it didn’t come.

Instead, she felt the bench on her side of the booth shift as Nick sat down beside her, shoulder brushing hers. She nearly jumped with how startled she was, but she didn’t. She just waited, letting him move at his own pace.

“First of all,” he said, drawing her attention fully over to him. She couldn’t hide behind her hands, not anymore. “I’ve been in weirder situations.” His arm moved to rest along the back of the bench, fingers trailing along her shoulder, featherlight. On impulse, she leaned in and dropped her cheek to rest on his shoulder, pleading mentally for him to stay. He felt tense and slightly rigid, as though he was trying to sort out what to do, but he did. He stayed.

She felt his voice; a deep rumble rising up from his chest. It sounded safe. Her eyes fluttered shut.

“You asked me if I remember. Well, I do. And maybe I should be grateful, but sometimes being able to remember…is too much. Especially when things you remember aren’t all good. If I could choose, I would choose not to remember at all. But that’s just me, on the complete opposite end.” Nick paused. This thumb traced softly over her shoulder. “What I’m trying to say, with great lack of grace, is that neither is fantastic. Neither is ideal. You could remember them, clear as day, but would that bring them back?”

“No,” Sabrina whispered against his shirt.

“So either way is fucked, if you ask me,” Nick finished gracefully.

Sabrina laughed in spite of the situation. From the corner of her vision, she saw Nick smirk slightly. “Still as eloquent as I remember…” she mused.

“Mm, want me to recite poetry instead?” he asked. “I could do that if you want.”

She fought back a smile as she propped her chin upon his shoulder. He let his arm fall away, reaching instead to run his fingers through his hair. “I suggest you tone it down, Romeo.”

“You weren’t complaining when you were Juliet,” Nick said.

Sabrina thought back to their high-school performance of Romeo and Juliet. They’d been assigned the death scene, and they’d passed with flying colors, so much so that the teacher continued to use it as an example for future semesters. She understood that that was what he was referencing.

But, she had also kissed Nick on the track during one of their rehearsals. And their first time had been on her bed, with her script shoved carelessly onto the floor and his crammed somewhere between her pillows. So, she couldn’t help it that her mind went straight there. She wondered if he thought about it at all. Probably not.

Sabrina sat up a bit straighter and tended to her milkshake, which had melted entirely at that point. She sipped at it anyway.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked, finding that was the best way to start her inquiries into him. She wanted him to know he had the option to opt-out.

Nick quirked a brow in her direction. “What’s that?”

“What’s one good thing you remember about your parents?”

He was quiet for a few seconds.

Sabrina filled instantly with regret. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want—”

“My mother had black hair,” Nick said without looking at her. His eyes were drawn to the table where his finger tapped lightly. “Like an inkwell. I think I look like her. Amalia says so.”

“Amalia knew them?” Sabrina asked.

He nodded, and then picked up talking. “My dad was a businessman,” Nick said. “I went to the same school as him.”

“Like me,” Sabrina added. She had followed in her father’s footsteps in regards to his career choice, as well. “Did you do it to feel close to him, too?”

“Something like that,” Nick said distantly, dismissively. She could tell he was done talking about it. He motioned with his chin toward her milkshake. His own still sat at the opposite end of the table, and like hers, it’d been barely disturbed. “I’ll get you a new one if you want.”

“I’m okay,” Sabrina said, deciding that she liked him where he was. If he got up, he would certainly return to his own seat again, and selfishly, she liked the comfort he provided in the spot right beside her. Even if he went right back to being his distant self.

As if reading her mind, Nick settled back comfortably, and she got the feeling he was just as content with his placement as she was.

She fetched his shake from across the table and smiled. “Thanks for staying.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said a few seconds later, eying her in an odd sort of way.

Nick didn’t quite get it, but she didn’t blame him. She could be mysterious, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Marge! She's gone, tears all around buuuut it means someone's going to be riding with Nick more often? I mean, they work RIGHT across the street from one another.
> 
> Also, Nick IS opening up. He's trying!! Give him a pat! We're going to start getting into his end of the story here, hope you guys will enjoy. Also, feel free to let me know if you're noticing anything in particular...I love reading theories!
> 
> Let me know what you thought! See you next time, where we will have some Amalia/Sabrina interactions...and maybe more on Nick?


	17. a second round of cherry danishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all. Before we officially begin the transition from friends to lovers, let's learn a little more about Nick, shall well? 
> 
> Warning for parental death and car accidents ahead.
> 
> Thanks, everyone. Take care.

*

Sabrina exhaled as she tugged open the door to the cafe, slowing down from her jog to take up a slower pace. The inside was warm, sunlight from the windows bathing the walls and hanging plants in a honeyed gold. She pulled her earbuds out as she passed the register, smirking slightly at her cousin, who appeared to be at his wits end thanks to the loudly needy customer before him.

She breezed in through the door to the kitchen, finding her aunt at the center, carefully stacking scones with cream and strawberry jam while humming sweetly to herself. Sabrina came up behind her just as she began to drizzle a bit of honey over one of them and made her jump.

“Hi, auntie,” she greeted with an apologetic smile, while Hilda sighed and pressed a hand over her chest to calm her now racing heart.

“Hello, dove,” her aunt said, pushing the tray of scones closer to Sabrina as she reached out to take one. “We miss you here. It’s a busy day today. Ambrose hasn’t had a break since this morning.”

“Mm,” Sabrina hummed. “Riverdale’s having a summer festival today and tomorrow. Overflow from that, maybe.” It wasn’t like Greendale got much tourism, but they did have a periodic spike in visitors whenever something big happened in town or nearby. It was usually outside family popping in for a visit, but there also was the occasional thrill-seeker who came out to test whether or not any of the creepy theories behind the town were true.

She poked her head over the counter to nosily investigate a package nestled in the corner. It was Hilda’s usual cream-colored box, stamped with her trademark daisy, and wrapped with a pretty yellow ribbon. Whatever was inside was sure to be baked to perfection and neatly packed.

“What’s that?” Sabrina asked.

“Oh,” Hilda started, as though realizing something. Her eyes shot to the clock in the corner. “Those are for Ms. Amalia. Nicholas was supposed to swing by and pick them up, but it seems he’s stuck at the shop, too. Busy day for everyone.”

“I can take them,” Sabrina decided without much thought behind it. It just seemed right to offer to, seeing as there was no one else around to do it. And Hilda’s pastries were always best devoured warm.

Hilda glanced at her. “Are you sure, love? You haven’t got a car anymore.”

Sabrina shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll walk. It’ll be a nice way to cool down after my run.”

Her aunt looked on. “And you know where to go?”

Sabrina nodded. “I think I remember. Nick took me once not long ago. It’s the blue house on Willow Street.”

“Perfect, then,” Hilda said, handing the box off to Sabrina. “You take care of that, and I’ll give Cassius’ a ring and let Nicholas know not to worry about it. And don’t think about walking back to the mortuary. Ambrose is off soon, so just shoot him a text to come get you when you’ve finished.”

Sabrina nodded once more. “Sure.”

*

Sabrina stopped before the pale blue home, not bothering to double-check with the address Hilda had provided her. She recognized it from the last time she had been there with Nick. From the stone pathway to the little gnome at the bottom of the stairs. Even the tiny mailbox at the front door was familiar.

She pressed the box to her chest and started her trek up the pathway, stepping over the steps she recalled being loose to avoid accidentally dropping the package. It made her think back to the last time she’d been there, to Nick’s arm as it hovered just inches from her, making sure he was there to catch her if she stumbled. He was considerate like that. He always had been.

She caught herself smiling as she ascended the porch steps.

At the front door, she gave a firm knock. There was a clatter of footsteps inside and then the door swung open, revealing the woman she remembered as Amalia. Her gray speckled hair was loosely pulled back, tamed with a large pin. Another colorful shawl hung around her shoulders. Amalia’s amber eyes lit up with surprise when she saw her.

“Hi,” Sabrina greeted. “I don’t know if you remember me—”

“Sabrina,” Amalia said with a nod. “I remember you, of course. How are you?”

“I’m alright.” She smiled and held up the package. “I was actually just stopping by to drop this off. Nick’s still stuck at the shop.”

Amalia opened the door the rest of the way. “I was starting to wonder where he was,” she said, motioning with her chin. “Would you like to come in? I was going to make some tea, and it’s always better with someone else.”

Sabrina considered her for a moment. She hadn’t planned anything for the rest of her day beyond lounging in the living room with her own cup of tea and maybe reading one of the many books she’d set aside for a time like this. Either way, it wasn’t like she was missing much. “Sure,” she decided. “Tea sounds nice.”

She followed Amalia in, allowing her to lead her down the hallway and into the kitchen Sabrina had been in only once before. The window above the sink was propped open, the flutter of something sweet tickling her nose as she set the package down on the counter.

“Tea olive,” Amalia said, noticing her curiosity. “About the only damn thing I’ve managed to keep alive out there.”

Sabrina giggled. “Not a gardener?”

Amalia gave a small shy smile while she filled a kettle with water and plopped it down on one of the burners. “Not exactly. I took it up when the kids were young as a way of getting some peace and quiet. It was one of the only things none of them had any interest in. So as long as I was out there pretending to know what I was doing, the four of them would leave me to it.”

Sabrina’s smile extended into a grin. It had only ever been Ambrose and her, and they’d still somehow managed to drive their aunts up the wall. She could hardly imagine two more of them under the same roof.

Curiosity bubbled up within her. “They were a hassle, huh?” she asked, trying to envision Nick and the girls as rambunctious children.

“Sometimes,” Amalia said with a nod. “There were times I’d look up and see Prudence hanging Nick out of the upstairs window like a flag. Other times they’d all be crammed in the hallway closet for hours, passing around a flashlight and making up scary stories. You could never really guess what you’d get at the start of the day with those four.”

It was obvious to Sabrina, judging by the way Amalia talked, that she cared deeply for them. She felt grateful that Nick had someone like that to watch out for him.

A couple of steps away, Amalia undid the ribbon the package of pastries and lifted the lid. The scent of vanilla cream, sweet cherries, and warm pastry dough filled the small kitchen. Sabrina could pinpoint exactly what was in the box without having to look inside.

Cherry danishes.

“Those are Nick’s favorite,” Sabrina said on impulse, feeling a flutter of warmth in her chest as she recalled meeting him on the bookstore steps and exchanging a danish for a truce. It had been weeks ago, a somewhat distant memory now, a tender point early on in their relationship, but one she could call back with clarity. She remembered the look on Nick’s face, then. He’d seemed so surprised that she’d been able to pick up on that detail about him, even if it had been something as small as his favorite dessert.

Amalia seemed pleased, too. A little wistful, even, as though the little pastry held a special place in her heart, as well. “Mine, too,” she commented as she plucked two of them from the box and settled them on a small, glass plate. “They’re one of the only things I could get him to eat when he first got here. It’s a shame he’s still at work…they’re still warm.”

A thousand questions stirred in Sabrina’s mind, but she held her mouth shut as best as she could. She had a tendency to pry, to say the very first thing that came to mind even if it overstepped. Still, she couldn’t help but ask, after a few seconds of careful consideration, “How old was he? When he came to live with you?”

Amalia didn’t seem bothered at all by her question. “Six. He was a tiny little thing,” she said, just before the kettle went off and she wandered away to tend to it. Sabrina watched as she poured the hot water into two mugs, a tea bag already hanging in each one. She glanced up at Sabrina. “How do you take it, love? Honey? Sugar?”

“Honey, please,” Sabrina said, leaning onto the counter, several other questions and wonders sprouting up in her mind like little weeds. She shoved them away. “Just a spoonful.”

Amalia smiled and plopped a spoonful of thick, glistening honey into each mug. From a nearby cabinet, she dug out a silver tray, placed the mugs and the plate of danishes onto it, and then went to pick it up.

“Let me,” Sabrina requested, moving to take the tray instead. “You made it, after all. Where are we headed?”

“Outside?” Amalia suggested.

“Lead the way.”

Amalia led her through a small hallway, the walls of which were plastered with framed photographs of varying sizes. Sabrina’s eyes flitted over them, trying to take them all in as quickly as she could. There were ones of people she didn’t recognize, images of what she assumed was a younger Amalia standing next to several other children. Her family, likely.

Then, a slightly bigger photograph of her, hair still wild but brighter, appearing several years younger and nestled between four tiny bodies. It had been taken in front of the very home they were in, Halloween decor hanging haphazardly from the columns and bushes outside. Dorcas, with her copper hair, was dressed as a bumblebee, sticking her stinger in Agatha’s direction, who stood in a cat costume, proudly displaying her painted-on whiskers. Prudence was decked out as a witch, pointed hat, and all, a little plastic cauldron in place of her Halloween basket. Beside her, a little boy in a wizard get-up was sticking his wand in her face and smiling big, his dark hair visible under his hat, curling into his face.

Despite the overall chaoticity of the photo—the slightly slanted angle and none of them looking in the right direction—there was one feature that stood out in particular. And it was the bright, almost tangible, happiness that radiated from it.

They looked right. They looked like a family.

Smiling, Sabrina moved along, but she snapped to a halt several feet away, entranced by another photograph. It was of a man and a woman with a tiny baby grasped in her arms. Her eyes settled on the woman, on the dark hair that spilled neatly over her shoulders, on her eyes, the shape and color of which reminded her of someone else. Sabrina knew immediately, but she still felt the need to ask.

“Are these Nick’s parents?”

Amalia stopped in the doorway to the back porch, looking back at her. “Oh,” she said, sounding a little surprised that Sabrina had noticed. “Yes, that’s them. And the little babe is Nick. Sweet, isn’t he?”

Sabrina gave the photo one more look over, smiling at the chubby baby before she caught up with Amalia. “He’s right. He really does look like his mom.” She quickened her pace, following Amalia over to a small wrought iron table at the edge of the patio, just beside the tea olive bush. There were a few dried planters sitting precariously along the ledge, seemingly having been given up on.

“Ignore those,” Amalia said, placing her mug in front of her when Sabrina set down the tray. “I just don’t have the heart to toss them out yet. I’m holding out for a miracle.”

Sabrina laughed. Amalia did, too. They both knew the plants were beyond saving at this point. “I have a feeling a miracle won’t help…”

“An act of God, then,” Amalia said with a snort, pulling a lighter and something else from the pocket of her loose trousers. Sabrina watched her light it, and then realized very quickly that it wasn’t like the cigarettes her auntie Zelda smoked. Amalia, having caught her watching, offered it to her.

Sabrina shook her head hastily and occupied herself with stirring her tea. She thought back to the image of Nick’s mom, looking radiant and full of life, glowing with love for the new baby in her arms. It felt eerie, now, to wonder what may have happened to her.

“Nick said you knew his parents,” Sabrina said. “I mean, before…”

Amalia nodded, leaning back in her chair, exhaling a thick ribbon of smoke before she spoke. “I did,” she answered with a nod. “Well, mostly his mother. She grew up here in Greendale. We went to school together.”

“At Baxter High?” Sabrina wondered.

“Baxter High, yep,” Amalia said. “And everything before that, too.”

Sabrina hesitated for a second. “Were you…friends?”

“For awhile,” Amalia said, glancing down at the contents of her mug as though it wasn’t particularly a topic she wanted to discuss in great detail. “For awhile we very good friends, I’d say.”

“What happened?” Sabrina asked before she could stop herself.

“We grew up,” Amalia answered. “Everyone likes each other when they’re young. Then they grow into their skin and realize they’re more different than they believed at first. She was beautiful. A socialite. She was friends with everyone. I was the weird kid.” She laughed quietly. “You know how that goes. I’m sure high school's all the same, even now.”

Sabrina’s eyes grew a little wider. “Was she…mean?” The woman in the photo didn’t look mean.

Amalia shook her head. “No. No, she was never outright mean. Some of her friends were, though. We just ran with different crowds, is all.”

Sabrina hesitated, swishing her drink around and watching the liquid inside slosh around. There was a bit of honey stuck to the edge that she poked at with her teaspoon. “What happened after high-school?” she asked. “Were you two friends again?”

“Not quite,” Amalia said. “She went off for a while, met a guy—Nick’s father—from London, and lived her life. They were already married when they came back here, and soon enough, she had Nick. We saw each other around town, were cordial, but not exactly friends. I do regret it, a little, not reaching out to her more.” Amalia smiled, but there was a hint of something somber lingering around the edges of it.

“His father worked in the city, I think, so he was gone a lot,” Amalia continued. “It’s a small town, so you learn about people even when you don’t talk to them. She was always out and about, pushing Nick around in his little stroller. I always thought about saying ‘hi’, maybe inviting her over for tea, but never quite did. Then, next thing you know, I’m raising her son.”

Sabrina felt an odd sort of way, like she was experiencing someone else’s pain, but second-hand. Amalia may have presented it as casually as she could have, speaking in a voice that didn’t lend to what she was feeling deep down, but Sabrina could see beyond it and understood that it was a heavy subject for her. It was clear that Nick’s mother had been someone special to her, regardless of their end, and the fact that they had never quite worked out their relationship obviously weighed on her.

There was a silence that hung over the table for several seconds, each woman seemingly in their own minds, when Sabrina finally spoke up again.

“If you don’t mind…” she whispered. “Could I ask…what happened to her? To them both?”

Amalia shook her head. “I don’t mind, love. I forget how old I am now. Most everyone from my generation knows. Maybe not you, since you’re too young to remember it.” She set her mug down, took another long drag as though she would need it to continue, and cleared her throat. “It was an accident, by all accounts. Out on the freeway, one of the biggest we’d ever had around here. Some idiot got drunk, decided to drive himself home, and drove headfirst into another car. Nick and his parents were in it. His father was driving, his mother in the passenger seat, and little Nick was in the back.”

“Oh,” Sabrina exhaled. “Oh my God…”

“Apparently, his father had just gotten back into town and they were headed out for a late dinner. They died on impact—unfortunate as it is, as least Nick didn’t have to watch his parents suffer.”

“Nick—” Sabrina nearly choked on her words as they tumbled out of her. “Nick was awake?”

“His mother made sure he was buckled in tight. He barely budged when they crashed. But he was in there, and he was awake the entire time. The car was so beaten up, they had to cut him out of it. It took hours because the idiots had to bring in gear from Riverdale. Apparently, they didn’t have the proper tools here. Well, they made sure they did after that…”

Sabrina felt an overwhelming wave of nausea course through her at the thought of Nick, tiny and afraid, sitting in the back seat of a vehicle with the bodies of his parents in the front, not quite understanding what was happening or why they weren’t responding.

“He still doesn’t quite like the back seat. Can’t really blame him, though,” Amalia continued.

It made sense to her now. The night in Prudence’s car, when Nick had been drunk, Prudence had mentioned that he wouldn’t be in the backseat otherwise. Back then, Sabrina had just brushed it off as Nick being too posh of a person to want to be degraded to sitting in the back, but it hadn’t been that at all.

And—

Sabrina’s heart clenched in her chest at her next thought.

“Oh, no,” she breathed, leaning onto the table and pressing her hands to her face. “I’m so stupid. I had no idea. The other day…I called him to come pick me after someone rear-ended me. Nick was near panicking and I just…I thought it was weird but…”

Amalia shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. “You didn’t know. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“I cried in front of him at the diner about a car. And Nick was probably uncomfortable the entire time and I didn’t even…He just…he comforted me the entire time and he didn’t say anything and I didn’t even notice—”

She realized she was near rambling when Amalia reached over and wrapped her hand around Sabrina’s wrist, grounding her back down to her seat.

“It’s okay,” she assured. “If he came out there for you, it means he cares about you. And if he cares about you, believe me, he would’ve been a hundred times more panicked if you got into an accident and didn’t let him know you were fine afterward.” Amalia smiled and patted her arm before she sat back in her seat.

Sabrina sighed and shook her head, forcing herself to relax and calm down. She realized she was near tears, her vision blurring around the edges as she tried to blink it away.

Amalia patted her arm before she sat back in her seat. “Dorcas totaled her car once during a trip to the city. She was fine, but they admitted her into the hospital because of a minor concussion. Well, It was midnight, and I got a call asking me to please come pick up my son because he was apparently causing a scene with the doctor on duty who, in Nick’s words, ‘wasn’t taking it seriously.’”

Sabrina huffed out a quiet laugh, understanding that Amalia had meant for it to calm her down. It did help to envision Nick arguing with a literal doctor about his methods and getting in trouble because he wouldn’t give it a break. It was the know-it-all in Nick. “That sounds like him,” she murmured.

“He’s a good kid,” Amalia said.

“He is,” Sabrina agreed, wishing she would’ve noticed it sooner. Before she had gotten angry at Nick in the hallways of Baxter High and damned him away for good. Even if a relationship wouldn’t have worked out between them in the long run, at least they could’ve become friends much sooner. Or rather, stayed friends.

Amalia sipped at the remainder of her tea, giving her a look over the lip of the mug. “You’re sweet on him, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Sabrina asked, her gaze snapping up to meet Amalia’s, as though she hadn’t probably heard her. It had almost sounded like Amalia was insinuating that Sabrina was interested in Nick, which made her suddenly nervous atop of everything else she was already feeling.

“Nick,” Amalia reiterated. “You like him.”

Sabrina felt her cheeks flush with warmth. She dropped her vision to the table, tracing over the curves of the iron in order to avoid looking at Amalia. “He’s my friend,” she defended. “Of course I like him.”

“Good,” she replied, leaving it at that. “He needs more of those.”

As though on cue, the front door slammed shut inside the home. Sabrina sat up straight. Amalia only sighed.

“There he goes, breaking my door again,” she grumbled.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, as well as Nick’s familiar voice shouting for Amalia. He stuck his head out through the patio door.

“There you are,” he said, coming out to meet them. He set a pizza box down on the table and reached around Sabrina for a danish. “Hey, Spellman.”

Sabrina cleared her throat. “Hi, Nick.”

“I brought pizza because I’m not eating another one of your ‘casseroles,’” he said, leaning on the back of Sabrina’s chair and looking at Amalia.

“Whatever,” Amalia said with an eye-roll, exhaling a puff of smoke. “That’s what moms do. They make casseroles. If you don’t like it, cook for yourself.”

“The last lasagna she made, she didn’t boil the noodles beforehand and Prudence almost broke one of her perfect teeth,” Nick said, to Sabrina in particular. He moved to the side as Amalia tossed a tea towel at him, shifting to take a seat in one of the empty chairs.

When he caught sight of Sabrina’s face, at the eyes she was certain were still tinged red, he sat up. “You okay?” he asked, and Sabrina nodded quickly. Maybe a little too quickly. He glanced at Amalia. “You didn’t give her any of your medicinal crap, did you?”

“What kind of mother do you think I am?” Amalia asked, waving her hand at him. “This is top dollar stuff.” That made Sabrina laugh, even if just softly.

Nick, shaking his head, returned his attention back to Sabrina. “Are you staying for dinner?”

She shook her head, blinking her eyes in hopes of clearing them up. “Um, no. Ambrose is on his way to pick me up. He should be here any minute, actually…I should probably go meet him out front.”

“Let me walk you out,” Nick suggested, standing up with her. He waited as she bid farewell to Amalia, who’d stood to give Sabrina a long hug. Then, he led her down the patio and around to the gate that led out to the front yard. She trailed behind him, his silhouette a blurred figure before her. She desperately wanted to reach for the hand that hung lazily at his side.

It was quiet out front, the sun close to disappearing. Sabrina hadn’t realized it had gotten so late. She had gotten so immersed in her talk with Amalia that the time had slipped away from her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked over his shoulder. “You’ve usually talked yourself in a circle by now, Spellman. Did Amalia freak you out or something? She’s not as weird as she presents herself to be.”

Her bottom lip trembled with the desire to speak, but she hadn’t any idea of what to say, of where to begin. So, instead, she whispered, “I’m sorry...”

That made Nick turn fully, a brow raised in confusion, eyes traveling over her expression in an attempt to figure out what she was referring to. He stood a couple of feet away, studying her.

“What for?” he asked slowly, not following.

“The other day,” Sabrina clarified. “When I called you to come pick me up after the accident…Nick, I’m sorry, I had no idea about…” She swallowed hard. “About what happened to your parents. To you.”

He was quiet for some time. Surprise flickered across his face and then disappeared, painted over quickly with a straight face and distant eyes. Nick was working to tuck himself away, to take all the tender, vulnerable bits of himself and hide them where no one else could get to them. Nick had always done this whenever she got too close. It was just now that she was starting to recognize it fully.

“It’s fine,” he finally said. “You call me, I’ll come. It doesn’t matter what it is. I’ll come.”

“It’s just…I didn’t know, Nick. You never told me…” Sabrina said, stepping a bit closer. It was then that she noted that his calm exterior was really just that: an exterior. A facade meant to fool her. She could tell by the way his hand stood at his side, visibly shaking, fingers twitching, against his pant leg.

He caught her staring and raked the hand through his hair, exhaling. “Amalia told you?”

“Don’t blame her,” Sabrina insisted. “I asked her about it…I’m sorry. I just…Sometimes I feel like I really don’t know you, Nick. And we were just talking. I was asking questions, and it just wound up there. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy or anything—”

“It’s fine,” Nick repeated, in a manner that told it was not at all fine. He crossed his arms, hand rubbing at the side of his bicep in a fidgety manner. “Sabrina, I never told you because I didn’t think it mattered, first of all. It happened a long time ago. And second…” He stopped, glancing down at the ground, distracting himself with the bare patches in the lawn, choosing not to meet her gaze. “I don’t…I don’t like the way people look at me when they know. I didn’t want that...”

Her eyes sought after his, searching, wanting to know what he’d meant by that. He met her, finally, uncertainty in his gaze.

Then, very quietly, he said, “Not from you. Never from you.”

“Why?” she asked, sounding slightly offended. To her, it sounded more like Nick didn’t trust her enough to let her know things about himself, despite that she had spilled to him all about her parents early on in their friendship. She was an open book to him, one he’d read over once already, but to her, Nick was a locked chest thrown deep into an ocean somewhere, the key missing. She was tired of being the only one exposed. Tired of knowing him through the cracks in her fingers.

It wasn’t what she wanted.

“I don’t fucking know,” Nick answered, frustrated but honest. She thought if he had the chance to choose between standing right where he was or flying off into the now pitch-black sky above them, he would’ve certainly gone with the latter and found a home somewhere among the stars. “I wanted you to be nice to me because it was me and not because you knew my parents died in a fiery mess in front of me. I wanted you to like me for _me,_ not because you felt _bad_ for me.”

“I do like you!” Sabrina said loudly, her voice cracking through the air like a strike of unexpected thunder. He flinched visibly, but not from her tone. “I do like you, Nick. I like you no matter what. I liked you even when I thought I hated you.” She stopped, her heart beating wildly against her eardrums, and stared. At him. Directly at him. “I like you,” she repeated, and much softer this time she asked, “do you understand?”

“Yes,” Nick said, voice cracking.

The air hung heavy between them. An invisible mass. A curtain separating them.

Sabrina took a few hesitant steps toward him, approaching him slowly. Nick remained rooted like an aged tree, shrouded in a cloak of fear so thick she could hardly see him. His eyes flickered over hers, back and forth, unsure of where to land, where to stick. Gently, her fingers settled over his, and she began untangling them from where they had been clenched deeply into the fabric of his sleeve.

“Is this okay?” Sabrina asked as she parted his arms and nestled herself into the space between them.

“Yes,” Nick said.

It was like the hesitancy in Nick cracked suddenly. His arms slipped around the petite frame of her body, pressing her snuggly to him. She fit just fine there, her cheek resting on his shoulder, her nose pressed softly against the junction of his neck. A hand, ghostlike, trailed gently up her back to rest against her head, stroking the hair at the nape of her neck, and Nick clung to her just as desperately as she had to him.

His rigid frame began to melt against her, his breathing, and the pulse of his heart softening. She didn’t let him go, still. She didn’t particularly want to, either.

“Sabrina,” came the gentle lull of his voice, sometime later. She wasn’t sure how long they had stood there, pressed against one another. It hadn’t seemed long enough, regardless.

Sabrina reluctantly peeled herself off his shoulder to look up at him. He stared back at her with an intensity that pulled a deep shiver from her, his eyes warm and inviting, the warm patio light carving out all of the features of his face that she had once adored—she thought she still might adore.

Her gaze fell onto his lips, tracing over the curve of his mouth, and then Nick spoke.

“Your cousin is here,” he whispered, and then looked past her, sounding a tad bit disappointed.

She shoved back with a gasp and followed his line of sight. Her cousin was planted in the driveway, lounging in his seat with the window rolled down and his arm hanging out. He looked smug.

“…So, are you still coming with me or what?” Ambrose asked. “Because I can leave you to it.”

Sabrina glared at him and then turned to face Nick again. “I really want to hurt him right now,” she declared.

Nick chuckled softly, running his hands down and over her arms before he pulled back entirely. “Go. I’ll see you later,” he told her. “Thanks for bringing those by. And Sabrina?"

She waited, blinking up at him.

"I like you, too."

He gave her a crooked smile, the one she still adored, before motioning over to where Ambrose still sat, as impatient as ever.

“Several hours later…” Ambrose drawled in the distance.

“I really am going to hurt him,” Sabrina huffed and spun around, stomping her way down the yard and into the car, where she proceeded to slam the door shut, Nick waving them off from afar.

Ambrose immediately began by asking, “What was _that?_ He was practically _in_ you—in the middle of the _yard."_

Sabrina cut him off by shoving her seatbelt into place, loudly. “You're so dramatic. Just _drive.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of you guys caught on last chapter to Nick potentially having some car trauma. It's why he reacted the way he did to Sabrina's little fender bender. And also the reason he's got a very nice, very SAFE, car of his own. 
> 
> Also, I gotta say...I could write an entire story just on Amalia and Nick's mom and their connections and stuff, but it doesn't all fit here so like...you get this LOL
> 
> I hope you guys liked the read, even with how dark it got there for a bit. Next chapter...we're prepping for a celebration :) Let me know what you thought! Poor Nick...


	18. maybe a friend, maybe a lover instead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some realizations that happen in this chapter--if you follow me on tumblr, I'm sure you already know! Hope you guys enjoy, we are OFFICIALLY starting to transition from friends to lovers. Next chapter...A SURPRISE.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

*

Sabrina leaned forward, her elbow pressing into the aged wood of the breakfast table as she hid a smile against her palm. Her phone, which sat propped up against her plate of pancakes, reflected back soft clouds and apricot-colored skies—a sunrise, filtering in through the windows at Cassius’.

Three little dots flickered beneath it, replaced soon after with a sleepy-faced emoji that only made her smile grow. She had texted Nick a ‘good morning’ a little earlier, and was surprised to find him already awake.

She quickly flipped off the message as Ambrose came breezing into the room in an undone silky robe and pajama bottoms. There was a matching sleep mask pushed to the top of his head. Sometimes, her cousin pulled off the ‘rich widower’ look really well. All he needed were the fluffy slippers and a fake alibi to clear him of his husband’s mysterious disappearance.

“Good morning family,” he said as he came up beside Sabrina and promptly tipped over the chair Salem had been occupying, depositing the now grouchy black cat onto the floor. Salem growled threateningly and then sauntered off to bother Hilda near the stove.

“Morning,” Sabrina murmured back, shadowed over by Hilda’s more exuberant trill of acknowledgment. Zelda, hidden behind a sheath of dull gray newspaper, waved her cigarette through the air as a way of greeting. Ambrose plopped down into his seat with a loud, satisfied exhale.

Another text lit up Sabrina’s screen. She turned it over, but not before Ambrose caught sight of who it was. He leaned in as he scooted his chair closer to the table, and asked, “How’s that itch, found a way to Scratch it yet?”

“Have _you_ talked to Prudence?” Sabrina shot back.

“Not much time to talk between—”

“Bacon?” Hilda interrupted, holding the pan of sizzling bacon entirely too close to them.

“Hildegarde Antoinette Spellman,” Zelda gasped suddenly, slapping her newspaper down onto the table as though something had offended her greatly. Ambrose and Sabrina fixed their posture immediately, familiar with the tone that was often followed by a lecture of sorts. “What is that abhorrently tragic thing on your finger?”

Hilda blushed bright pink and moved the pan aside to show off her left hand. A diamond glittered on a little silver band over her ring finger.

“Surprise?” she offered.

“Auntie Hilda!” Sabrina exclaimed just as Ambrose stood beside her, the chair tumbling to the floor loudly. “Is that an engagement ring?”

“Big rock,” Ambrose exhaled, his eyes as wide as the pancakes on the table.

Hilda trembled with excitement, bouncing in place while Sabrina and Ambrose shoved each other out of the way to grasp her hand and gather a better look at the ring. Zelda stayed seated, rolling her eyes.

“How devastating,” Zelda said. “I honestly thought this was below even you, sister, marrying that clown of a man whose name is an appropriation of a perfectly good career.”

“He never claimed to be a real doctor,” Sabrina grumbled back at her aunt. Dr. Cee was a perfectly good man, despite her aunt Zelda’s claims that he was too immature to be with her sister.

 _“Exactly,”_ Zelda enunciated, exhaling smoke.

Hilda giggled, ignoring Zelda completely. “He proposed last night. We closed up the cafe and made a later dinner there together, sat under the twinkle lights, and—well, I said yes!”

“And now we’ve got this to listen to for an entire year,” Zelda huffed, taking in a long inhale of her cigarette and shaking her head.

“Don’t listen to her auntie. She’s just upset you won’t be here with her after you marry Cee,” Sabrina said, wrapping up Hilda in a hug while Ambrose continued to examine her ring up close. Her eyes blink wide with a sudden thought. “Unless…he plans to move here?”

“Over one of my perfectly embalmed deceased bodies,” Zelda said, squashing out her cigarette butt in the ashtray. “He will absolutely _not_ live here. There are enough of us as is.”

“Well, that’s the thing, Zelda,” Hilda began, smiling at her sister. “We’ve actually decided on a quick wedding. We don’t want to wait any longer…we were thinking…maybe next week? And as far as living arrangements…we’ve been looking at a sweet little home across town. The perfect size for the two of us, and an extra room if either of you little doves decides to visit.” She squeezed both Ambrose and Sabrina close to her.

Ambrose and Sabrina froze and looked at each other. Zelda fell into a coughing fit, covering her mouth to keep from spitting her tea out onto the table.

“I’m sorry, auntie…it almost sounded like you’d said the wedding would be next week?” Ambrose said. “As in, the week following this one.”

Hilda nodded, a big smile on her face. “That’s right.”

The other Spellmans stared back at her in disbelief—even Salem, who had perched up at the edge of the counter, though whether he was staring at Hilda or the untouched bacon was entirely unclear.

“It’ll be here,” Hilda continued. “The catering will be taken care of me, with a little bit of help from the three of you and Cee, of course. We’ll handle the decor, too, perhaps borrow some tables from the cafe for the occasion…And invitations…well, there won’t be time to order them from the printers now but we can handwrite them ourselves.” She smiled timidly. “It’ll be like one of our summer parties. Nothing fancy, just a small gathering of our most favorite people.”

“You usually spend months planning your summer parties,” Ambrose said.

“And you usually invite the entire town,” Sabrina added.

Hilda shrugged. “They’re all my favorite?”

Silence hung over the kitchen for a couple of seconds.

Sabrina was the first to speak again.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Well, it’ll be a challenge for sure—but we’re in. Let’s plan a wedding in less than a week.”

Ambrose dropped an arm around Hilda’s shoulders and gave her a loving little jostle. “Anything for my favorite auntie.”

Hilda covered him protectively just as Zelda tossed a morning bun at his head, both of them erupting into laughter at her reaction. 

The wedding wouldn't be perfect, but they'd make sure it was as close as could be. 

*

The sound of shredding paper filled the room, along with Sabrina’s disgruntled groan as yet another wedding invitation was demolished.

“That’s the fifth one of those you’ve messed up, Brina…” Roz said, her voice full of concern as she watched her friend take several breaths and compose herself.

“I can’t help it.” She ran a hand through her hair, smoothing backed the strands that had riled up with her attitude. Hilda had always said her hair was a reflection of her mood, and today, it was a mess. Her aunts had placed her in charge of filling out invitations, and even though her aunt Zelda—with her perfect penmanship—had crafted a template for her to copy, she had still messed up far too many for her liking.

She had called Roz in near tears begging for her assistance. Thankfully, her friend had been more than happy to come by and help. She’d even picked up a bottle of wine for the pair of them, insisting that the alcohol would help loosen up their writing wrists.

It had helped, but on top of the stress of the wedding, Sabrina’s mind had been consistently plagued with tidbits of the night in Amalia’s yard. Particularly, the part where she’d embraced Nick. It had felt so nice to be there, so familiar and yet different at the same time. It had felt like coming back to the mortuary after being gone for years. Like home, but through new, more experienced, eyes.

The more she thought about it, the more certain she became about one thing in particular.

She could have kissed him.

Like, on the _mouth._

He could have kissed her, too, and she probably would have let him.

Sabrina glanced at her small pile of shredded invitations nervously.

It didn’t help that it had been his invitation that she had fumbled with writing several times over.

“Stupid Nick…” she grumbled, uncapping her pen and grabbing for another invitation. Roz grabbed her wrist before she could ruin that one, too, and looked at her.

“Did you just call me Nick?”

“No,” Sabrina clarified. “Sorry. I was just thinking about something.”

“Thinking about Nick?”

“Why would I be thinking about Nick?” Sabrina asked in a defensive tone.

Roz’s concern grew. She set down her portion of the invitations on the floor between them and moved to sit beside her, slipping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a gentle tousle. Sabrina felt herself relax as she leaned her head on Roz’s shoulder.

“Let’s take a break,” she said. “Talk to me.”

“There isn’t really anything to talk about,” Sabrina said with a sigh. “Nick and I are friends, and I guess it just feels weird sometimes.”

“What’s weird about it?” Roz pressed softly. Sometimes, Sabrina needed someone to work out all of her jumbled thoughts, and Roz was often the person that helped her through it, whether on the phone a thousand miles away or in person. It was why they were such good friends. They just worked. “Besides that time you decided to take it upon yourself to make sure he put on sunscreen.”

“I didn’t want him to burn,” Sabrina insisted. Roz had relentlessly teased her about that since the day it had happened. “That wasn’t weird. I was looking out for him.”

“Then you held his hand on the way back to the cars,” Roz pointed out.

“The path was slippery.”

“Sure,” Roz said, dropping it. “But, want to know what I think?"

Sabrina waited.

"I kind of think you might have feelings for him. And I don’t think you’re being true to yourself, probably because you’re worried about being hurt again.”

“Well, you’re wrong, so…” Sabrina grumbled out, pulling her knees up to her chest to quell the sudden flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Roz gave her a pointed look.

Sabrina attempted to stare back with her own determined gaze, but it quickly fumbled and fell apart. “Okay!” she groaned in a defeated voice. “Okay—I like Nick _more than a friend.”_

Roz rubbed her shoulder soothingly as Sabrina took in her own words. It surprised even her how easy it had been to finally say that. It didn't make her feel uncomfortable, or upset, or worried. It just.. _.was._ It probably had been for a while now.

“It sucks, Roz,” she continued. “When I saw him the first night, I was terrified. I think it was because part of me—the part that didn’t want to rip out his throat—wanted to run across the street and into his arms. I missed him— _so much.”_

Roz continued to rub her back. She stayed quiet, allowing Sabrina to let it all out.

“I fell on my ass in Theo’s yoga class because I saw an attractive guy across the gym and didn’t realize it was him,” Sabrina continued. “I can’t believe I ever thought I could _hate_ Nick.”

“I was pretty sure I hated him,” Roz said, making Sabrina snort out a laugh. “But that’s just me.”

Sabrina let her head fall back against Roz's shoulder. The last time the two of them had talked about Nick in depth had been in high-school, when she had been rain-soaked and wrapped up in a towel on Roz's couch, crying her eyes out. Now, years down the line, she was admitting her feelings for that very same boy. She reminded herself again that it hadn't been Nick's fault that night—not entirely. He hadn't meant to hurt her.

“I think it’s because we never got any real closure. I mean, we’re good now. But we never had a real break-up…I’m not even sure we were really even together to begin with…so I guess that’s why it just feels weird. I haven’t really had the chance to get over him…I just moved right on to Harvey.”

“Residual feelings,” Roz said, nodding along. “It makes sense.”

Sabrina looked over at her, nervously biting her lip. “But…it doesn’t have to mean they’ll stay, right? I can’t mess it up by wanting more, Roz…I don’t want to lose Nick as my friend again. I’m not sure we’ll ever make up again if that happens.”

"Maybe it's not the closure that you need. Maybe you just need...to try again?"

Sabrina's head perked up and she shook it. "No. No way."

“Let me show you something,” Roz suggested, untangling herself from Sabrina to wander off in search of her phone. She pushed aside piles of invitations and envelopes before she finally found it. As she tapped away on the screen, Sabrina sat blinking, completely unaware of what Roz was up to.

“Here,” Roz continued, turning her phone so that Sabrina could see the screen. Reflected back at her was a photo of their day at the river. Roz had snapped it when they weren’t looking, and all of them were still immersed in whatever they had been doing at that moment. Theo was play-fighting Robin for the last can of his favorite soda. Harvey was smiling in Roz’s direction, waving a hand in the air.

And in the back, Sabrina sat across from Nick, frozen in time, but very clearly having been in the process of rambling away, her hands up in an animated position. Nick had his hands in his lap, a warm, captivated look on his face as he listened attentively.

As to further her point, Roz pinched the screen to zoom in on the pair of them.

“As I said before,” Roz continued. “He’s not my favorite person, but even I can’t deny how happy he looks in your presence. That’s how he looked at you the entire time we were there. Not to be a creep, but yeah, I kind of was watching. You’re my best friend and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t up to anything.”

Sabrina took the phone from her hands, her eyes still glued to the photo. A small smile rose to her lips, one that she hadn’t even noticed. It quickly extended into a full one.

“You’re staring at him, aren’t you?” Roz asked.

In response, Sabrina shoved her phone back into her hand and huffed. It was hard to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks, or the bundle of nerves in her stomach that seemed to grow the longer she thought of Nick and the way he had been looking at her. It reminded her of the way Nick _used_ to look at her.

Had Harvey ever looked at her like that? Had Harvey ever been so content to just sit and listen to her talk? Had _she_ ever done the same for _him?_

“I don’t think you’ll have any issues with Nick not wanting to be your friend,” Roz said. “Even if he doesn’t share your feelings.” She reached for the stack of invitations again. “Now, think we can continue? I don’t really want to get in trouble with your aunt Zelda.”

Sabrina considered her friend’s words with a smile, extending her hand out to take some of the invitations.

"Right," she breathed. "Thank you, Roz."

*

Sabrina hauled the bag up over her shoulder and pushed open the door to the bookstore. It was a Monday afternoon, and the inside was quiet. There was the soft hum of the air conditioner running, meant more so for the books than the guests, and the gentle thump of something further down the aisles.

Sabrina followed the sound and found Nick up on a ladder, re-shelving some books near the top. He seemed in his own mind, flipping through a couple of books before he shelved them, likely checking for damage or making sure no one had scribbled anything inappropriate inside. The Greendale youth got bored sometimes, and Nick had told her once about the time he’d gotten yelled at by a mother because she’d found a phallic image penned in on one of the pages.

She heard him curse and pull back his finger, seemingly having nicked it on a page. It was then that he caught sight of her and proceeded to look embarrassed.

“Spellman,” he greeted. “You spying on me?”

Sabrina smiled. “Come down. I should assess that damage.”

He chuckled and slid down the ladder to meet her. She motioned for his finger, looked it over once, and went on to dig out a band-aid from her bag.

“Why am I not surprised you have band-aids in your bag?” he asked as she patched him up.

“I run into things a lot. It’s become a habit,” Sabrina said, dropping his hand once she was done. “I think you’ll be fine, Scratch.”

“Thanks,” Nick said with a small smile. He held her gaze for a moment, and then pulled himself away to stack the remaining books he'd left on the floor back into the box. “Are you here to shop? Can I help you find something?”

Sabrina remembered her mission and cleared her throat. Quickly, she went back into her overstuffed bag and withdrew five envelopes. He took them after some hesitation.

“They’re wedding invites. Hilda’s getting married. There’s one for Amalia and each of your sisters in there, too,” Sabrina explained. “I hope you’ll be able to make it. All of you.” 

“Oh,” Nick said, glancing down at the invites, all of which were sealed away in a pretty cream-colored envelope, their names flowing over the front in an elegant golden script. “I’ll save the date, make sure to set a reminder and all that.”

“It’s next week,” Sabrina said. “So you probably won’t forget. I’ll remind you every day just in case.”

"Next week?" Nick looked visibly surprised. “Do weddings usually happen that fast? I thought they took some planning…”

“Usually, yeah,” she replied with a shrug. She had already delivered several invitations and almost everyone had had the same reaction as him. By now, she was used to it. “Hilda and Cee decided they don’t want to wait anymore. I mean, they’ve been together for years already. It won’t be anything crazy fancy—just a party at the mortuary. Semi-formal wear, leaning more toward the casual side preferably. No jackets or over-the-top dresses. Fun summer colors. That sort of thing.”

“Fun summer colors?” Nick asked tentatively.

Sabrina smirked. “Yeah, so leave your dark wardrobe at home. We’re trying to keep away from the funeral look, given that it’s already being held in a mortuary and all.” Nick’s expression began to shift and she couldn’t help but want to laugh. He looked equal parts scared and confused.

“What constitutes as a ‘fun summer color’?” he asked several seconds later, as though his brain had already begun to short-circuit.

“Bright colors,” Sabrina said. It didn’t seem to help any, if anything, Nick looked even more scared. “You could just stick to a white shirt and pair it with a fun tie.” She paused, biting her lip as she considered something. “Aunt Hilda and I already picked out my dress. It’s peach. You could just match with me?”

She began to feel nervous, as though maybe her question would be taken out of context. Generally, only dates matched to things, right?

Except, when she looked back up at Nick, he didn’t seem shocked or ready to reject her offer. He actually seemed relieved.

“Okay,” Nick decided, and Sabrina smiled brightly. “That’s probably the safest bet.” He held up the envelopes. “I’ll make sure Amalia and the girls get these.”

"You'll be there?" she asked. 

Nick smiled back. "Sure will, Spellman."

“Great,” Sabrina said, feeling a wave of giddiness start to take flight within her. She still had dozens of invites to deliver, but it suddenly didn’t seem as daunting anymore. “I’ve gotta go and get the rest of these out before the sun sets—oh!” She perked up Melvin exited the stockroom, hand reaching into her bag again. Seconds later, she presented him with his own invite, announcing, “Hilda. Getting married next week. Be there. Look bright.”

She disappeared seconds later, spinning on her heel and rushing out of the bookstore after a quick goodbye.

There was an awkward moment of silence before Nick turned to Melvin and asked, “What the fuck is ‘peach’?” 

Melvin shrugged, just as clueless as him. “A fruit, I think?”

*

Nick glanced up as Prudence swished out from behind the satin curtain in a fitted blue dress with a sharp hem and thin straps, stopping just before him with her hand on her hip.

“Prudence, dearest, must you show up everyone at the wedding?”

“Must you be an insolent brat?” Prudence snapped.

Nick leaned back in the velvet upholstered chair outside of the fitting room and smiled.

She shot him an exasperated look. Then, she motioned over the dress and asked, _“Well?”_

“Blue’s not your color,” Nick said, knowing it would tick her off.

Prudence exhaled loudly and turned on her heel, roughly pulling the curtain back into place behind her. The aggressive sound of a zipper coming undone tore through the air next. “Idiot,” she murmured, _“every_ color is my color.”

“I wish that weren’t the case…” Nick grumbled, eyes glancing toward the pile of variously sized bags in the chair beside him, most of which he had been responsible for lugging around. “If you picked one, or even two, it’d be a lot easier on my wallet.”

“Your daddy left you a fortune, mine left me the inability to trust others. I prefer your inheritance.” He heard move about the fitting room, her shadow dancing behind the curtain as she sorted through which dress to try on next. “Besides, I’ve hardly made a dent. Half of those bags are _yours.”_

“The two pairs of size seven Louboutins aren’t,” Nick rebutted, choosing to overlook the fact that he had purchased a nice new jacket for himself, as well. Though he could be frivolous with his money, it didn’t come close to what Prudence could rack up during one of their shopping trips.

Prudence’s voice floated over on a smug note. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was smirking. “You said if I came with you, I would be repaid for my lost time. And I wasn’t given a limit.”

“My bad,” Nick apologized, feigning sympathy, before he grumbled out, “I didn’t think your limit would be nearly two grand _and pending.”_

“Eat the rich?” Prudence tried.

Nick sighed, dropping his head against the backrest of the chair and staring up at the molding in the ceiling, at the fancy crystal chandelier that was starting to give him a headache. He dug his phone out of his pocket and held it out in front of his face. The screen was blank aside from a couple of annoying notifications regarding his email and a social media post. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he felt a hint of disappointment regardless.

He sat up when Prudence came out once more, this time wearing a pale yellow number in a summery linen material, a woven belt pulled neatly around her waist. She adjusted the loose sleeves so that they fell perfectly over her shoulders and looked at him with a raised brow.

“Spin,” Nick requested.

Prudence did a small twirl, timing it with an eye-roll.

“That’s the one,” Nick said. “She’s beauty, she’s grace, now can we _please_ get the Hell out of this place?”

Prudence sighed. “This is always more fun with Dorcas and Agatha. You’ve turned into such a bore.”

“Well, Dorcas is too busy sucking Melvin’s face,” Nick explained. “And Agatha’s not here because I’m here, so.” He stood up and started collected their bags, while a nicely dressed attendant came over to take the unwanted garments from Prudence. “Also, don’t complain. I’m a lot more honest than either of them, and you know you prefer that.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Prudence said and Nick winked at her, knowing that was as close to a compliment as he was going to get from her.

She ducked away to change back into her clothes, Nick waiting for her before they went up to pay. Soon after, they were wandering down the busy street once more, a chic new bag in their inventory. Prudence slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses and looked around for a new shop.

This was the closest to ‘sibling bonding’ the pair of them were sure to get nowadays. Prudence enjoyed nice things, and so did Nick, admittedly. Every so often, they would take a drive out to the city and indulge in some retail therapy. Nick usually preferred to handle his shopping online, but Hilda’s wedding was next week, and he needed to find a peach-colored something to wear. Prudence apparently also needed a new dress, because the ones she already had would simply not cut it.

Prudence looped her arm through his and tugged him into the direction of a shop specializing in men’s formal and accessories.

Nick stopped before a very threatening arrangement of ties, handkerchiefs, and bow-ties stacked neatly on tiers and tiers of shelving. It spanned the entirety of the rainbow, running light to dark. Some colors Nick would have previously never been caught in, and yet, there he was, aiming for the assortment of bow-ties in varying shades of orange and pinks.

He picked one up tentatively and turned to Prudence, holding it between his fingertips as though it scared him.

“Is this peach?” he asked timidly.

Prudence pressed a palm to her forehead in disappointment.

Nick blew out a breath and turned once more toward the array, grasping a few other items and proceeding to stare at them for a prolonged amount of time, his stare eventually shifting into a full-on violent glare. Eventually, he groaned and dug out his phone.

“I’ll just call her and make sure,” he decided.

“Yes. Please do,” Prudence said with a lack of enthusiasm. “I was just thinking about how much I wanted to talk to Sabrina.”

“Me, too,” Nick said without realizing it. He tapped away at his screen and then held up the phone as the familiar Face-Time tone started. Soon enough, the screen changed and Sabrina’s face was reflected back, her hair pulled into a little loose bun at the bottom of her head, strands falling out of place. Her cheeks were a pretty shade of pink, contrasting against the bright green flora behind her.

“Nick,” she exhaled, out of breath but visibly happy to see him. Nick smiled. A wave of something warm washed over and he almost forgot why he had called her in the first place. “Prudence,” Sabrina added on quickly once she caught sight the woman behind him. Prudence waved back awkwardly.

“Hey, Spellman. Out for a run?”

“Yeah. I got thrown out of the mortuary for being a stress-factor and arguing with Ambrose.” She smiled and looked a little embarrassed as she worked to smooth down her hair and push away the strands that hung in her face. “How the city?”

“Busy,” Nick said. “I need your help.” He proceeded to hold up the three bow-ties he had managed to narrow his choices down to, but for all he knew, they could be completely off.

“Hmm,” Sabrina hummed, squinting through the screen as she thought. “I think the middle ones probably the best. But just in case, I’ll send you a picture of my dress. Maybe that’ll help?”

There was a ping as a photo was delivered through a text from her. Prudence tapped her foot impatiently as the two of them fell into a conversation regarding the garment, and then other things that didn’t concern her either.

She cleared her throat, and Sabrina giggled as though sensing her impatience.

“I’ll let you go,” Sabrina said. “I should probably go back to the mortuary and see if I’m allowed inside again. I’ll see you later? You too, Prudence.”

“Can’t wait,” Prudence said dully. Nick hardly got out a ‘goodbye’ before she was leaning over his shoulder and shutting off the call.

Nick glared. “Rude.”

“I’m not known for my patience,” Prudence declared. “Why you have to match any aspect of your wardrobe to her dress is beyond me.”

Nick shrugged, squinting his dark eyes over the bow-ties as he individually held each one up to his phone. “She asked me.”

“And since when have you ever been so quick to oblige to anything?” Prudence questioned.

Nick glanced back at her with an expression of offense. “I’m a very agreeable person.”

Prudence rolled her eyes in response. “Sure you are. I remember a girl once asked you to commit to a relationship and you not only declined but then also went on to change all of your contact information.”

“To be fair, she was very insistent and kind of mean.”

“And Sabrina Spellman isn’t?”

“She’s not mean,” Nick defended.

Prudence sighed in a way that told Nick he was missing the point entirely. He shrugged, picked the bow-tie closest to the dress Sabrina had sent over, and wandered off with her to pay.

Outside of the shop, he stuck a free hand into his pocket, the other clutching their day’s gatherings.

“All that I’m saying,” Prudence began again once they were out of earshot of the store employees. “Is that I’ve never seen you act this way.”

“Act what way?” Nick asked, feeling a sense of dread start creeping up his spine as Prudence’s face turned sour. He didn't sense anything nice coming from her.

“Like Sabrina unfurled an umbrella over your soaked head and now you can’t help but follow her around like some lost dog. Are you hoping she’ll take you in?”

Nick looked confused. “I’m not following your weird-ass analogy, Pru.”

“Are you trying to get with Sabrina?” Prudence asked, dead on.

“She’s my friend,” Nick said. Then, he paused, brows raising simultaneously. “Why, did she say something?”

Prudence groaned and turned back around to keep walking, shaking her head in the process. Nick trailed behind her in anticipation.

“You’re an idiot,” she said. “I’m asking you if you want a _relationship_ with Sabrina.”

“You mean like a—”

“I’m not talking about sex, Nicholas,” Prudence said harshly. “I’m talking about that nasty, love-dovey, ‘kiss each other’s foreheads and send a nightly non-booty-call text goodnight’ type of stuff I’m sure the two of you freaks would relish in.”

“Huh,” Nick said, his voice tinged with playfulness, “Is that what people in relationships do?”

“You’re hopeless,” Prudence sighed.

“I don’t have feelings for Sabrina if that’s what you’re asking,” Nick said, his tone turning slightly more serious.

“Are you _sure_ about that?”

 _“Yes,”_ Nick insisted. “I mean, she’s pretty—probably the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. She’s considerate, and nice, even when she doesn’t want to be.” He didn’t realize it when he started to smile. “She’s all over the place, but she’s never too much. And she’s never annoying—”

“Disagree,” Prudence said quietly as he continued.

“—Even though she’s reckless sometimes, her heart’s always in the right place—”

_“But?”_

Nick stopped and glanced in her direction, noticing she looked ready to be sick. “But what?” he asked, clueless.

“Aren’t you going to say ‘but’?” Prudence asked. “Like—‘but her head is too big for her body,’ or, ‘her soul is made up of one thousand screeching butterflies all firing off at the same time.’ Or—”

“No,” Nick said, sounding offended. Then, a flash of terror crossed his features and he pressed a palm to his forehead, sweeping back his hair as it dawned on him. “Oh, _fuck.”_

Prudence sighed.

“I have feelings for _Sabrina.”_

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Prudence offered. “Now, give me the keys. I’ll drive.”

For once, Nick didn’t argue.

He wasn't sure he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hilda's getting married. And Nick's invited to the wedding. What could go wrong at an event like that? Like I said, next chapter we get a nice surprise! Can't wait to share.
> 
> Let me know what you guys thought. My favorite part of this chapter has to be Prudence and Nick. I just wanna be them, y'know? 
> 
> Also, follow me on [tumblr](https://bunivys.tumblr.com/) if you guys want to see some previews and snippets of future chapters. I post those sometimes!


	19. (you) got what i need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOYS, GIRLS, AND NON-BINARY PALS! I'm back with (1) fucked up car bumper, a bunch of anxiety, and (more importantly LOL) a new chapter! This one is one of my favorites so far, so I really hope that you guys enjoy it! Hang on to your pants, cause it's pretty dang long, but there is a very sweet part at the end that will make up for it!
> 
> Thanks for being patient with me!

*

The Spellman property stood transformed, glittering with all of the care and tedious work that had gone into it over the course of the last week. The large lawn, once overgrown in patches, had been mowed down and trimmed neatly along the edges. It looked bigger, somehow, as though the forest has begun to recede away from the home. Sabrina wasn’t sure she liked it. She and Ambrose had spent plenty of time getting lost in the long grass on the brink of the property as kids, pretending to throw spells back and forth, and now, that memory seemed like a lifetime ago.

Sabrina gripped tightly to the old dining room chair, sliding down the porch steps as carefully as she could to avoid snagging it into the twinkle lights hanging above. She cringed when she hit the grass and her newly pedicured feet sunk into a patch of mud, but she quickly regained her composure and started toward the area in the lawn roped off for the ceremony portion of the wedding, avoiding the paper lanterns and splayed out tables on her way.

The rest of the chairs sat in neat, organized lines before the wooden arbor, all of them mix-matched and borrowed from various parts of the home. Some had come from the cafe, too. She thought it looked rather charming, despite the home-made appearance of it all.

Ambrose raised his head to look in her direction, his fingers continuing their work, weaving twine and fresh baby’s breath to the back of one of the chairs, despite the loss of attention. While she had gotten dressed first thing that morning, he still stood in his pajamas.

“That should hold everyone,” Sabrina said.

Ambrose merely shrugged, seemingly not caring either way. “I’m sure some people could stand.”

“That’s rude, Ambrose,” Sabrina said, taking the last bit of garland from his hand to tie it around the chair she had just brought down. She stepped back afterward, surveying their work. It was decent, given the circumstances.

“By some people, I mostly mean Faustus Blackwood.”

Sabrina made a face to suggest she didn’t disagree. “I still can’t believe the aunties are letting him come. Don’t we hate him?”

“Well, he is the mayor after all…And I do think auntie Z’s been hoping for an opportunity like this one…with him so close to the morgue and all.” Ambrose paused. “I wonder if she’ll make it look like an accident. We do have a lot of stairs.”

Sabrina snickered.

Zelda’s previous debacle with the town mayor wasn’t exactly a secret. As sweet as Hilda was, she sure did love to gossip, and it meant that even miles away, Sabrina still got all the town news through the phone thanks to her. Same with Ambrose. It was still a shocker though, to find out that their distinguished aunt had rendezvoused behind the scenes with a man as vile as Faustus Blackwood. Thankfully, she was now well beyond that.

“Okay,” Sabrina said, starting her way back up the path to the home. “You should probably get dressed. The guests will arrive soon. I think Nick and the girls are already on their way.”

“Worried I’ll take your man looking like this?” Ambrose asked, putting his hands on his hips in an attempt to look sultry. It probably would’ve gone over better had he not still had a bit of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth.

Sabrina blew out a disgruntled breath and turned on her heel, shaking her head at her cousin. She still had to find her shoes and help Hilda get ready, and she did not have time to listen to Ambrose tease her about her feelings for Nick, which he had come to realize after barging into her room with a bottle of their favorite red and demanding a drink with her in the aftermath of a stressful day of wedding planning. Needless to say, it hadn’t taken much poking and prodding from him before she finally spilled—not only her feelings but her second glass of wine, too.

Since then, Ambrose had messed with her relentlessly, making kissing sounds whenever her phone had buzzed that morning during their quick breakfast of stale cereal, regardless of whether or not the text had come from Nick. She had hoped he would choke on his fruit loops then, but he had, unfortunately, come out unscathed and seemingly more smug than ever.

“Nick and I are—” Sabrina began but was quickly cut-off by Ambrose.

“No,” he interjected. “Nick and I are friends. You and Nick are a fire waiting to happen.”

She sighed. “That’s precisely why he and I can only be friends.”

“What are you so afraid of, cousin?”

“I’m leaving Greendale,” Sabrina pressed, meeting Ambrose’s eyes with a look that suggested very little room for an argument. “At the end of summer. There’s too much of the world I’d like to see before I settle down.”

“The world’s easier seen with another pair of eyes,” Ambrose suggested.

At that, Sabrina snorted back a laugh. “You’re ridiculous if you’re suggesting Nick—someone I was only involved with briefly—would follow me. That didn’t work with Harvey, and he and I were in an actual relationship, for years.”

Ambrose slung an around her shoulders as they ascended the porch steps, pulling her to him. There was love and comfort at his side, despite how much he loved to ruffle her feathers, and she leaned into it. “That’s because Harvey can only see to the edges of Greendale. How many times did come see you when you were in the city?”

“A few times,” Sabrina defended. “It was only because he didn’t like driving the distance. And the city streets aren’t exactly the easiest to maneuver either. People there are rude, too, and Harvey’s so nice…”

“Nick’s been to the west coast. He’s flown out and wandered through various countries in Europe just because. He told me he was thinking about heading to Japan next year.”

“He’s rich—I get it,” Sabrina grumbled. “It’s not just about money, Ambrose—”

“That’s not at all what I’m talking about,” Ambrose cut in. “What I am trying to say is that he’s got more of a similar mindset to yours, a similar desire to explore and see things, than you might think.” He shrugged. “And I’m not against the idea of my dear cousin having someone to trek through the unknown with, especially if it meant I wouldn’t have to worry as much about her.”

“Nick doesn’t date,” Sabrina countered. “And I can take care of myself.”

“Absolutely,” Ambrose agreed. “But it doesn’t hurt to have someone to experience things with. To have each other’s backs.” He gave her a squeeze, and she understood. He wanted her to have someone like him where she went—someone to rely on if she needed it. “And as for Nick’s stance on dating…tell me, have you ever really given him the chance to prove you otherwise, cousin?”

Sabrina considered his words, feeling guilty. She hadn’t really. She’d shut Nick down at the very first indication that he might not be a good boyfriend, without really giving him a chance to explain his side. However, she couldn’t even be certain Nick wanted anything to do with that anymore, especially now, with so much time having passed. It wasn’t just about her feelings. Could he even trust her not to cut him off again?

She sighed and let go of Ambrose as they breezed in through the front door.

“There you two are,” Zelda said, thoroughly stopping both of them in their tracks. “Come. I’ve got another task for you both.”

*

Nick followed the signs in front of the mortuary leading to a temporary parking area for the wedding guests, pulling his car into an empty spot near the front. He let out a sigh of relief. In the backseat, his sisters squirmed in discomfort. Prudence sat in the center, arms crossed over her chest as she held steadfast to whatever remaining ounce of patience she had. Dorcas twiddled her hair beside her, seemingly in her own world and without a care, while Agatha proceeded to glare out of the window at the mortuary.

“How long do we have to stay here?” Agatha asked. It had taken some convincing from Amalia to get her to come at all. She had deemed the wedding as an unnecessary waste of time.

Nick opened his mouth to speak but then shut it quickly.

Amalia turned in the passenger seat to face them all, effectively stopping them in their tracks before an argument broke out for the third time that day. “Please,” she pleaded. “The whole town is here. Just be civil, and then you can go home and kill each other. I don’t care anymore.”

Agatha glared at him, burning a hole into the back of his head with the force of it. “As if Nick has any intention of going home tonight…What do you guys think? How many people do you think Nick’s leaving with tonight?”

Nick craned his neck to look back at her. “Don’t, Ags, you know how much I love a good competition.”

Agatha frowned and rolled her eyes. Nick winked at her.

“That’s enough,” Amalia said.

“It’s never enough for Nick,” Agatha grumbled.

Nick blew a kiss Agatha’s way instead. “I’m an over-achiever by nature.”

“Stop,” Amalia said.

“Tell Nick to stop.”

“Your boyfriend didn’t want to me to stop,” Nick said smugly, knowing it would make her angry. He ducked as she threw her clutch at him. It hit the button on the steering wheel for the horn instead, causing it to blare once loudly. A few of the other arriving guests turned in their direction.

“Can we just go in already?” Dorcas whined. “It’s getting hot in here and Nick’s bow-tie is ugly.”

Nick’s jaw dropped and he raised a finger in protest. Amalia reached over and swatted it down before she addressed them, all of her patience entirely gone. “Get out of the fucking car,” she said firmly. “And Agatha and Nick—stay at least ten feet away from each other at all times.”

“Gladly,” Agatha said, pushing open the door. She stomped off ahead of them, Dorcas running off after her.

“Me, too,” Nick added, stepping out of the car as well. He met Amalia at her door, helping her out of the car while Prudence sighed deeply. She had decided long ago that she was staying out of their arguments. Prudence claimed it was because she didn’t care, but Nick knew it was because she didn’t want to pick a side.

The three of them started up the pathway, Amalia looping her arm around Nick’s when they neared the stairs. He helped her up them, and through the open door where a large, home-made, ‘welcome’ sign sat, ushering in the wedding guests.

“Nick. Amalia,” a voice called. Through the shallow crowd, Nick glanced up and saw her approach.

Sabrina, her dress cinched in at the waist, the fabric draping over her as though it had been sewn with her in mind. There were tiny wildflowers delicately woven through her hair in place of her usual headband. As she neared them, Nick began to understand exactly what peach was. It was the color the sun had left dusted along on her shoulders the day they’d gone swimming when Nick couldn’t pull his eyes away from her. It was the color of her cheeks when she blushed, as soft and delicate as the petals adorning her hair.

“Welcome,” she announced, stopping before them.

Nick could only nod, feeling his own breath leave him. Amalia peeled away from him.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she greeted, embracing Sabrina. “Where’s Hilda? I need to tell her all about what that bitch Shirley said at the farmer’s market last week.”

Sabrina laughed and pointed up the stairs. “She’s up in the guest room with last-minute prep. I’m sure she could use a distraction right now. She’s very nervous. It’s the second room on the right.” Amalia nodded and started her way up the stairs.

Sabrina turned to face him once more. He had yet to utter a word or even move. “You look very nice,” she said, reaching out to straighten his bow-tie. She left her hands resting on his chest, then, as though realizing, she pulled back. “The color suits you, though I know you’re going back to black as soon as this is over.”

Nick started to nod, slowly collecting the remnants of himself that seemed to still be hanging in various parts of the room. He had shattered like glass at the sight of Sabrina, and that unnerved him in ways he couldn’t quite fathom. Sabrina began to look at him oddly, but it certainly couldn’t beat the way he felt.

Laughter breezed in from outside as another group of guests entered. He turned his head slightly, seeing Rosalind first, followed by Harry and Theo. The came tumbling in and Sabrina waved them over.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted.

“Hey Brina, Hey Nick,” Theo said very quickly before he moved on to ask, “where are Hilda’s cupcakes? The ones with caramel inside?”

“Oh, um, in the parlor.” Sabrina thumbed behind her as she moved to hug Roz.

“You look beautiful, Brina,” Roz greeted.

Sabrina beamed back. “You, too, Roz.”

“Come on, Roz. Cupcakes first. You know those things go fast.” Theo looped an arm through Roz’s and pulled her off toward one of the multiple dessert bars on the Spellman property that day.

“Sabrina!” Zelda’s voice boomed from somewhere upstairs.

Sabrina looked at Nick and Harvey. “Gotta go. The ceremony starts in a bit. There’s a bar on the patio. Help yourself. Harvey, you’ll handle greeting people while I’m gone? Ambrose should be here in a moment to help guide people to their seats outside.”

“Sure,” Harvey said with a shrug. Then, awkwardly, he glanced at Nick and raised a hand in an unenthusiastic greeting. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Nick said, finding his voice for the first time since he’d entered the mortuary.

Harvey motioned toward his neck and then at Nick’s. “Your bow-tie matches Sabrina’s dress,” he pointed out.

“It does.”

Nick thought he’d probably had more thrilling and in-depth conversations with the wall at Dorian’s while wasted, and yet he was somehow more embarrassed to be talking to Harvey Kinkle.

“I have something to say…” Harvey said after several seconds of awkward silence. Nick glanced over at him with a raised brow, watching as his face went through several different emotions in the short span of time that had passed. He was red in the face by the time Nick finally said something.

“Well, don’t fucking hurt yourself.”

“I’m trying…” Harvey groaned. “Look, I know you hate me—”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t think about you enough to hate you.”

“Can you just let me talk, dude? I’m trying to freaking apologize here.”

“Oh,” Nick said, amused. “Oh, well, in that case…”

“Ugh,” Harvey moaned. “I don’t how people stand you, honestly.”

Nick shrugged. “It helps if they’re not standing.”

“Can you not be gross for like…two seconds? Please, man, I’m really trying.”

“Okay,” Nick said, trying his hardest not to laugh at his flustered appearance. He had a feeling that even if someone fucked Harvey sideways up against a wall, he’d still be as much of a prude as before. It was Sabrina who was the true victim, however, as she had apparently slept with the equivalent of bran flakes for several years. “Okay,” he repeated. “You were apologizing?”

“We got off on the wrong foot,” Harvey said, steering the conversation back on track. “From the start, we didn’t like each other. And part of it was my fault, I’ll admit. The four of us had been friends long before she tried to bring you into our group, and I had a crush on her for most of that time, so…

“I mean, she tried to invite you to things with us—or, she wanted to, but I always talked her out of it and—well, after things went down between you guys, I painted you as a bad guy to keep her from going to talk to you, even though I hardly knew you…You know, Theo and Roz say it’s because I was raised in a household where toxic-masculinity really played a role in my upbringing…Wow, I think I’ve really gone off track but—”

“Holy fucking shit,” Nick said, his eyes wide.

Harvey paused, realizing that he’d been rambling, and sighed. “What I’m saying is: sorry that I stood between you. I realize now, it wasn’t really my place.”

Nick just shrugged. “Okay.”

“’Okay’?”

“Okay,” Nick repeated.

“Dude, I just—I just said all of that and you…all you have to say is ‘okay’?”

“What do you want me to do?” Nick asked. “Shake your hand? Kiss you? I’m kind of against the latter but shit, if it’s what you want, man…”

“Ugh!” Harvey groaned, throwing up his hands. “I give up. For the rest of my life. I give up. Don’t ever talk to me again.”

Nick laughed. “I’m kidding. And I’m probably not the one you should be apologizing to. I think you seriously need to talk to Sabrina, not me.” He stuck out his hand. “But for what it’s worth, it’s in the past and I don’t care.” There were things that kept him up at night, but none of them—not even in the good way— were related to Harvey Kinkle.

Harvey took his hand and tentatively shook it. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Nick repeated. “Anyway, I’m going to go find Pru. See you around, Hardly Kinky.”

He smirked at the sight of Harvey—several shades darker and attempting to sputter back a reply— before he disappeared down the hallway. Even if there was a slight chance he and Harvey could be on good enough terms to call each other friends, he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of making him angry.

*

The ceremony went off without a problem, and before long, Cee and Hilda were married. They kissed under an arch of golden sunlight, both of them so in love that bubbled over and bathed the entire procession in the same glow. There had been nothing dainty in the way Sabrina had cried, thick tears dribbling down her cheeks quicker than she could wipe them away. Ambrose, teary-eyed himself, had poked her in the side half-way through to motion toward their aunt Zelda, who dotted at her own eyes in attempted secrecy.

Afterward, the party split up into, well, a party. They were escorted to the variously spaced tables peppered across the lawn, each one marked with lit candles and an overflowing bouquet of daisies and baby’s breath. Sabrina sat with her family, but she found herself peeking over to where Nick had been placed beside his mom and sisters, watching, wondering if he was enjoying himself.

He’d hardly said a word to her earlier, and with all of the chaos of the wedding, she hadn’t seen him much after the initial greeting. As the niece of the bride, most of her time had been spent making sure the wedding was tended to and running smoothly.

After dinner, she’d found a moment to sneak away, sighing in relief as she entered the practically empty mortuary, dotted only sparingly with guests entering and leaving. She was headed for the dessert station, hoping the cookie she was eagerly craving would still be there. Though, when she entered the parlor, it hadn’t been empty like she had expected. Instead, she saw Nick’s back. She paused when he began to talk in a quiet voice, seemingly to himself.

“Nick?” she whispered, wondering if he was okay, or if maybe the sun outside had gotten to him.

He turned, and she nearly missed the look of embarrassment on his face due to what she saw next. In his arms, held as carefully as a newborn baby, was her cat. Salem.

A smile broke out on Sabrina’s face as she neared them.

“Whatcha got there?” she asked. Frankly, she was shocked. Salem only allowed Sabrina to pick him up, and sometimes Hilda, if she had food on her, that was. Otherwise, he screeched and twisted until he was put down, but Salem looked entirely content to lay in Nick’s arms.

“I caught him on the table trying to lick the frosting off the cupcakes,” Nick said sheepishly. He proceeded to pat Salem’s belly, causing Sabrina’s eyebrows to go up in surprise yet again.

“He must’ve escaped my room,” Sabrina said, coming over to scratch Salem behind the ear. He was essentially a blob of purring, black ink. She thought, for a moment, how right Salem looked there, held by Nick. It flooded her with warmth.

Nick maneuvered Salem out of his arms and into Sabrina’s, handling him with equal parts gentleness and uncertainty. Sabrina lifted Salem up until his upper half was resting on her shoulder, her arms supporting his bottom. It was then that she caught sight of Nick’s white top, now matted over with a thick layer of black fur.

“Oh.” Sabrina cringed. “Come with me. I’ll put him back in my room and get you a lint roller for your shirt.” She motioned with her chin toward the hall that led to the staircase. Nick followed cautiously behind her, while Salem meowed once in disappointment, disgruntled over the fact that he’d lost his spot on the table of endless sweets.

In her room, she set Salem down on the dresser and started her search for the lint roller, which she was certain had been left right there, except now, it wasn’t.

“You may as well make yourself comfortable,” Sabrina said jokingly. “This may take a second…I could’ve sworn I’d left it right here…” She wandered over to her closet and the vanity placed nearby, scouring through the make-up she’d left scattered along the surface. The sound of weight shifting on her bed made her glance up and into the mirror of the vanity.

It was the sight of him seated on the edge of her bed, absentmindedly eyeing the photos and books on her nightstand while she searched for the misplaced lint-roller, that pulled a heavy wave of nostalgia from her chest. So sharp that it nearly hurt as it scraped up against her insides.

She remembered in a soft, ghost-like haze, that look of admiration on his face as he’d gazed up her then. Wonder-struck. The hand that hadn’t been on her waist had been gripped tightly over one of the rungs of her bed-frame as though it were the lifeline he so gravely needed, her name drifting repetitively off his lips like a sweet, desperate melody. A bird’s song. Meant only for her.

Through the mirror she saw him glance over his shoulder at her bed, tensing at the sight of the wrought iron headboard, and Sabrina immediately knew: he’d seen it, too.

They met eyes then, through the mirror, holding each other’s gaze for what seemed like an eternity, both of them afraid to move.

“Spellman?” Nick asked quietly. She thought she might’ve heard a hint of desperation in his voice.

Sabrina saw the lint-roller then, in the corner of her vision, thrown haphazardly onto her nightstand. Her legs didn’t feel like her own as she finally pulled herself away from the mirror to make her way over to him. She felt as though she were floating, thought she might bypass the lint-roller entirely and head straight for him. What she would do there, she was entirely uncertain of. She knew she wanted his arms around her waist, pulling her close, settling her onto his lap. She wanted his lips nipping at her neck as they had before, finding the spot that had once made her squeal in pleasure.

“Found it,” Sabrina said, picking up the lint-roller and stopping just before him. _Find your chill next,_ she thought to herself, while she motioned for him to stand.

He did so, slowly, ending up much too close to her when he was finally upright, but she didn’t move away. She didn’t dare look at his eyes as she pressed the lint-roller to his chest and began to peel away the cat hair clinging to his shirt. She didn’t have to to know that he was looking right at her.

“Sabrina?” Nick asked the second time around, so quietly she almost didn’t hear it. He sounded deserted, parched, pleading with her for something. It drew a deep shudder from her and peppered goosebumps along her exposed skin—left her dizzy and her thoughts a honeyed haze. The summer heat must’ve seeped into her bedroom. That had to be it.

He raised his hand, running it delicately up her arm, fingers dragging over her bicep, stopping once he settled on her shoulder. There wasn’t a drop of alcohol in her system yet, but she felt drunk all the same.

Nick’s hand moved again, to her face this time, his thumb tracing gently along her cheekbone.

She almost begged him— _please, please, please_ —but a thunderous wave of laughter erupted outdoors, streaming in through the open window in her bedroom and fully throttling her back into the solid, harsh reality around her, where things like kissing Nick didn’t exist to her. It sent them stepping from one another, her backward and him to the side to avoid falling onto her bed once more.

“All done,” she exhaled, her voice sounding too out of breath for her own liking. A sudden sharp twinge of disappointment quickly replaced whatever she had felt seconds ago and Sabrina turned away. “Let’s go back downstairs. I think the music and dancing are starting soon.”

She thought maybe he seemed disappointed, too, but she didn’t stick around long enough to find out.

*

It was convenient, the way the lawn was set up. Tables scattered about, housing relaxed wedding guests, while the center had been cleared away into a make shift dance floor for the more active portion of the crowd. Nick thought he had seen it all, felt whatever there was to feel in regards to sensuality, had claws sunk into him every which way and yet—no pain or pleasure had ever come close to seeing Sabrina from afar, barefoot, her shoes thrown somewhere, while she twirled around with Theo. It was tragically beautiful, he thought, being so close to her yet entire worlds away.

Someone slapped him hard on the shoulder from behind and he grunted, grabbing a hold of the porch railing before he went over it. Nick turned, wearing a bewildered look.

“Mate,” Ambrose drawled, and Nick thought his accent somehow sounded heavier. “Anyone ever told you your name sounds very English? ‘Scratch.’”

“I think my dad was English,” Nick offered, his lip quirking up into a smirk. Ambrose was very clearly intoxicated and was now wearing his tie as a headband.

“Cheeky,” Ambrose said, wagging his brows. “Amalia’s got a thing for English man, eh? Knew she thought I was charming for a reason.”

“I’m adopted…” Nick said. “You know, Amalia’s not actually my mom, right?”

“At least someone picked you,” Ambrose said, slinging himself over Nick, an arm wrapping around his shoulder. He tucked him close and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “My aunties are stuck with me. Forever, probably, cause I love ‘em too much to leave.”

“What’s in your cup?” Nick asked, slightly baffled as he peered down into Ambrose’s drink. Whatever it was, he certainly thought he could use a little. “I want some.”

“It’s apple juice, mate. Aunt Z cut me off,” Ambrose said. He sighed and leaned the majority of his weight onto Nick, who hadn’t any idea of what to do so he just patted his shoulder in a friendly gesture. “You know, I used to write poetry.”

“Did you?” Nick asked, genuinely surprised. He considered Ambrose a friend, but it wasn’t like they ever sat around talking about their hobbies. They weren’t friends like that, it seemed.

“Yes. Wanna hear one? Wrote it recently…came to me in a dream, actually.”

Nick raised a brow. “Go for it.”

He listened as Ambrose cleared his throat, then watched as he swung his arm out and moved it across as though presenting something magnificent, all while uttering only one word: “Prudence.” And that was that.

“Wow,” Nick said slowly, a few seconds later. “That was…That was great, man.”

To his surprise, Ambrose began to tear up, his expression falling from pride into one of complete despair. He looked ready to start wailing.

“Are you…Are you crying?” Nick asked. He tightened his arm around Ambrose’s quickly slumping posture and gave him a little rattle. “Hey, it’s okay. Prudence is mean—very mean, probably the meanest person I ever met. Don’t let her get to you.”

“She’s perfect,” Ambrose groaned, pushing away from Nick and rushing away, leaving him standing and wondering what the hell had just happened.

“Is my cousin crying?” Sabrina asked. Nick jolted upright as he glanced in her direction, having not sensed her coming.

“About Prudence, I think,” Nick answered.

Sabrina winced. “She’s kind of a tough subject for him right now…” She sighed and moved to stand beside him at the railing. “Ambrose is in love with her—so he said,” she revealed secretly.

Nick’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“It’s what he said,” she repeated. “I guess Prudence doesn’t feel the same, so he’s in the dumps.”

“But I just saw them making out in the hallway,” Nick said.

Sabrina shrugged. “I guess it’s complicated.”

Nick leaned forward onto the railing, clasping his hands in front of him. The sun had begun to set, bathing the Spellman lawn and all of its inhabitants in soft pinks and purples. He thought about Sabrina again, carefree and spinning as she danced, her hair like crushed opals. “I’m not sure Prudence wants 'love' or whatever it entails,” he said. “She seems to think it means kissing each other on the forehead and sending texts outside of the booty-call category.”

Sabrina laughed. “What?”

“Those were her words exactly,” Nick said with his own chuckle.

“I mean, I guess, yeah.” She shrugged before she mimicked him and leaned over the railing, too, surveying the guests with him. “I think it means something different to each person.”

Nick thought about that. He certainly didn’t know what being in love felt like, but sometimes, when he laid beside another person, warm for those few minutes before he collected himself and left, he did think how nice it would be to have someone like that every night. Not just for sex, but to sleep beside. Maybe to wake up beside, too.

He pressed past the warning, the lurch in his chest that told him not to speak up, and asked, somewhat timidly, “What does it mean to you?”

Sabrina thought for a second before she smiled finally. The red of her lipstick had almost completely worn away, leaving her lips a soft pink. She pointed ahead of them, and Nick followed her line of sight to the couple at the very center of the dance floor. Dr. Cee and her aunt.

“I think love is a series of small, sweet moments that make up a greater picture,” Sabrina decided. “Take my aunt and Cee, for example…In the wintertime, Cee always warms the car up for my auntie because he knows how easily she gets cold. And when my auntie has had a long day at the cafe, he always makes sure to save her a warm plate of her favorite meal at the diner, so that she doesn’t have to drive home tired and hungry.” Her smile only grew as she continued. “And in turn, my auntie doesn’t sell any of her cinnamon rolls until he’s had a chance to come by and pick out his favorite. And she always saves him a seat at our table, even if she isn’t sure he’s stopping by that night.”

Nick stood quietly watching her, certain his expression was one of amazement. In his mind, a very small voice wondered: was it like putting a book aside for a girl even though he wasn’t certain she’d ever come back? And in turn, was it that very same girl taking a box of danishes to his mom because he happened to be running late?

He looked down at his hands, unsure of himself or even his own thoughts. He didn’t think he knew anything about being in love.

The song shifted in something else, and Sabrina perked up beside him. She slipped an arm through his and gave him a firm tug. “I love this song,” she declared. “Come on, Nick, you have to dance with me.”

Before he could even think to decline—which he was certain he wouldn’t have done regardless—she was pulling him down the stairs. Within seconds, they were on the make-shift dance floor, his arm around her waist, and the smile on his face one he wasn’t sure he’d recognize in the mirror if he saw it. He felt different; weightless.

Sabrina, mouthing the words to the song, fell into a comfortable rhythm with him. He wasn’t sure who moved who along, only that at one point, he’d pulled her against him to lift her up, and her arms had gone around his neck. Her eyes had fluttered shut and her head fell back, a soft chime of laughter escaping her as he spun her around. The wildflowers started to come undone from her hair, dancing through the air around them like a fresh snowfall.

“You look beautiful,” Nick said.

“What?” she asked, the music having drowned out his voice.

“You look beautiful,” he repeated. “I wanted to tell you that before.”

Watching a smile rise to her lips and warmth bloom across her cheeks, Nick was certain of one thing in particular: peach would be his favorite color for a long time to come.

*

Quiet had begun to fall over the mortuary as the guests began to take their leave. It was well into the evening, the lawn had been trashed in the most beautifully endearing way possible, platters of unfinished food littered the tables inside and out, and Sabrina wandered through the front door in search of fresh air, deciding she would need it before she ultimately returned to help clean up the leftovers.

She found Nick Scratch hovering on the porch, the gleam from the twinkle lights radiating off his hair. He was leaning on the patio railing again, seemingly in his own mind, when she came up beside him for the second time that night.

“Hi,” she whispered. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Hi,” he said back. “I’m waiting on Amalia and the girls so we can head out. Thanks for the invite, again, Spellman.”

“Did you have a good time?” she asked.

“I did,” Nick replied with a genuine smile. She returned it and settled in comfortable silence with him, gazing out into the velvet sky above the mortuary. The stars glimmered back at her like an old friend, bringing a memory to the forefront of her mind.

“Do you remember that trip to the science center?” Sabrina asked. “You got me in trouble.”

Nick snorted. “I didn’t get you in trouble. You got yourself in trouble,” he defended.

“Only because you made me lay down.” Sabrina leaned over to bump her shoulder against his. “It was too beautiful to get up after that. And then next thing you know, Mrs. Stuart—”

“’Mrs. Stick-Up-Her-Ass’” Nick corrected.

“Mrs. Stick-Up-Her-Ass came busting through the door hollering at us both,” Sabrina finished. Nick started to laugh. “I don’t regret it, though. Even if Zelda got a really angry call about me stressing out the teacher as the student assistant.”

“I don’t regret it either,” Nick said in agreement. “I liked getting in trouble with you.”

“You always had a way of getting out of trouble, though,” Sabrina said. “Thankfully, I was able to mooch off of that at times.”

“Saying ‘ma’am’ and ‘sir’ gets you out of a lot of things when you’re a kid,” Nick said.

Sabrina shook her head. “No, I think it’s the charm.”

“You think I’m charming?” Nick asked playfully.

“I think the brown eyes do most of the work, to be honest,” Sabrina added, pretending to sound unbiased, though she could admit his eyes had gotten to her plenty of times before, too.

“Sure, Spellman.” Nick chuckled, his eyes wandering back up to the sky. “Think you can still find Polaris?” he wondered.

Sabrina threw her legs over the railing until she was seated on it, and then scooted down closer to him until he was standing behind her. “Move over, Scratch, I know I still can.” She wouldn’t tell him she’d looked for it only a few nights after her return--after she’d seen him up close in Prudence’s car.

They combed the skies together, Nick leaning closer to her so that he could see beyond the awning, his chin resting very close to her shoulder.

“Found it,” she said, pointing up at the spot in the sky. “I found it before you.” His breath tickled her cheek when he laughed quietly beside her.

“I already found it a while ago, Spellman. Before you even came out here.” He smiled as she turned around on the railing to face him, moving back several inches to avoid bumping his head with hers. “I was just wondered if you remembered.”

“Of course, I remember,” Sabrina said. Her voice was quiet, just above a whisper. It didn’t feel right to speak any louder there, at that moment, as she gazed up at his eyes. “You showed me, so I remember.”

The crooked tilt to his mouth became a little more noticeable when his smile extended. Absentmindedly, her hand moved upward to his jaw, thumb tracing the line of it.

Once, she had wondered why Harvey sometimes fretted over the minor details in his sketches, why he drew them over and over until the line sat just right. Now, she understood it as a method of memorization, so that the next time he put the line down it would land with ease and precision on the paper. Mindlessly, she must have traced the curve of Nick’s mouth with her eyes at least a hundred times in the past, always right before he had kissed her so that she could remember him when he was long gone.

This time, she was selfish, so she moved to trace it with her finger instead of her eyes. He didn’t move, or at least, she had thought he hadn’t moved, but somehow, he had ended up closer than he had been before.

Nick’s eyes fell to her lips, too, and he exhaled as though there was something there he couldn’t have. She felt his hand in her hair, brushing aside her silvery locks while she sighed in contentment.

It happened like that. Both of them inches apart and then suddenly not, his name the only thing to grace the air around them before his lips found hers. In the dark, under the gaze of Polaris, like a wanderer seeking home, Nick kissed her.

When they reluctantly pulled apart sometime later, he didn’t open his eyes until she called to him, as gently as she could. He looked at her then, his attention solely on her, and Sabrina thought if she had asked him, then and there, to burn down the entire world and all of its surrounding planets, he’d find some way to do it.

“I want to ask you something,” she exhaled.

“Anything,” Nick offered.

“When you were drunk,” Sabrina said, her voice airy and out of breath. “In Prudence’s car…did you mean it when you said you never got over me?”

Nick exhaled a shaky breath against her lips. It was news to him, obviously, and she knew that. Nick hadn’t even remembered that night, or what he’d said, but she still wanted to know if it was true. If he truly had never gotten over her.

His mouth fell open, and she listened on in anticipation. However, his answer never came, painted over by the sound of footsteps and muffled voices near the opened front door. Nick pulled away from her to lean over the railing beside her once more, breathing out a long breath to steady himself. There was a visible tension in his shoulders, his head dipping forward.

“Nicholas,” Amalia’s voice came. “Ready to leave? Oh, Sabrina, you’re here, too.” The girls bypassed them, heading down the stairs without much of a greeting or a goodbye. Prudence looked entirely fed up and the other two didn’t look any better off.

“Thank you for coming,” Sabrina said, leveling her voice as best as she could while she hopped off the railing to hug Amalia goodbye. The woman held tightly to her, rubbing her back the way Hilda often did.

“Sweet girl…Thank you for the invite. It was a beautiful wedding, be sure you tell Hilda I said so when you see her. I hope she enjoys her honeymoon.” Over her shoulder, Amalia’s gaze wandered over to Nick. “Nick, I hope you’re alive over there because you need to drive us home. The girls have had more than enough to drink, and I’m not legally allowed to drive right now since I tried to run over your aunt.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Sabrina asked.

“She had it coming,” Amalia began. “That witc—”

“I’m here, ‘Mal,” Nick said, coming to meet her, though his gaze continued to fidget back to Sabrina. “Please, don’t bring up the time you tried to kill aunt Lena. Not right now.”

“Okay,” Sabrina said, her voice taking on a hint of nervousness at the sight of Nick once more. “Well, you guys drive safely. I’m going to make sure my cousin is in bed and still breathing. Thanks again for coming, I’ll make sure to pass that message on to Hilda, Amalia.”

“Thank you, love, have a good night,” Amalia returned as Nick steered her down the steps carefully.

Sabrina gave her a smile, waving them off, before she ducked inside, a jumble of emotions and tired beyond belief.

*

That night, after making sure Ambrose was well and in his bed, snoring—or maybe sniffling—in his sleep, Sabrina sank into a hot lavender bath. Her hair had been brushed, make-up removed, and yet, she still didn’t feel ready to fall asleep. Her mind was abuzz with at least a thousand questions.

She pressed her lips together, Nick’s kiss lingering on them still, when her phone pinged on the foot-stool beside her bath. With her only dry hand, she reached out to touch the screen and found only one word reflected back at her.

 **Nick [11:23PM]:  
** -yes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter we had: Sabrina and Ambrose bonding, Nick and fam arguments galore, Nick and Harry moment (?), an intoxicated and sad Ambrose, and some sweet, tender moments between Sabrina and Nick. and a KISS! IT FINALLY HAPPENED. I want to thank everyone who held on this long, we've been slow-burning for a while now and it's coming to an end. I hope it felt as good for you as it did for them.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. If you'd like to, you can drop a comment and let me know what you thought! I hope the kiss made up for the wait!


	20. i wanna be yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes--as in the arctic monkey's song, as in nabrina's song since part 3.
> 
> also, thank you guys so much for all of the sweet comments last chapter! i'm gonna scream about it forever probably!
> 
> also, it sucks that caos was cancelled, but at least we still have fanfiction.

*

Nick slept peacefully through the night, when he finally did fall asleep. The cold winds and creaking of metal that sometimes pervaded his slumber were replaced with wide black skies and the feel of soft hair against his fingertips. He dreamt of Sabrina under a star-speckled night, with the curve of her smile against his lips and the sweet smell of wildflowers in the air. There were no ghosts there, and no tendrils of guilt to grab at him. Everything was fine like that.

Nick’s eyes cracked open sometime later, the feel of someone’s gaze on him stirring him awake. Every cell in his body jumped at the sight of a figure in his bedroom doorway, and he reached for one of the several books he’d had stacked up in the spot beside him in bed.

“You have got to find a new hobby,” he croaked as Prudence wandered out from the shadows like a reaper come to take him away.

“Take me to breakfast,” Prudence requested casually, as though she hadn’t just broken into his apartment and nearly activated his fight-or-flight response.

Nick set the book down and dropped back onto his pillow, hiking the covers back up over his bare shoulders. He scoffed. “Take yourself to breakfast. I’m occupied.”

“Well, you’re awake now.”

“Okay, then, I guess I just don’t _want_ to.”

Prudence exhaled a displeased sigh. She didn’t hear ‘no’ often, and especially not from Nick. “It’s past ten.”

“Didn’t know I cared,” Nick grumbled, his hair now the only thing peeking out from underneath his bedding. Why could he not just wallow away in his bed and think about how he’d apparently had feelings for Sabrina long before he had even recognized it in peace? Was that too much to ask for?

“I want a bagel with lox from that place on sixth,” Prudence continued. Maybe she thought Nick had a note-pad beneath his pillow, ready to take down her order. “With capers. And a coffee. We could stop by the cafe on our way.”

Nick peaked out an inch to check if she was serious. “To the city to get you breakfast? Yeah, you’re nuts if you think I’m driving out there right now. I’m having cereal for breakfast, and you can join me or you can split.”

Prudence set her mouth in a straight line. “I don’t eat cereal.”

“It’s Cocoa Krispies,” Nick said, offended.

“That’s gross.”

He sat up lazily and with a sigh, reaching for the shirt he had draped over his headboard and tugging it on. His hair went every which way, a mess of curls that Nick swatted out of his face. He looked across the room at Prudence.

The longer he considered her, and the more awake he became, the easier it was to see that something was off with her. Perhaps, to anyone else, she would still seem herself, but he’d known her long enough to see that her shoulders didn’t stand as confidently as they normally did, that the sharpness in her step had dulled, even if just by a bit. His sister was standing in her own shadow and it rattled him.

As though realizing she was being analyzed, Prudence turned to leave.

“Hang on,” Nick called after her, stumbling into a pair of sweatpants and following her out into the tiny living area outside of his bedroom.

Prudence pivoted on her heel, but even that action was not as clean as was normal with her.

“I’m going home,” she decided.

“Wait a second,” Nick insisted. “What’s wrong?”

“My brother is a mess.”

“What’s new,” Nick grumbled, and then said, “I meant with _you.”_

“There is nothing wrong with me,” Prudence said with her eyes narrowed threateningly. If Nick died in his apartment, no one would suspect her. “You’re the one pining after—” she shuddered “—Sabrina Spellman.”

Nick thought of kissing her again, and he couldn’t tamper down the smile that desperately clung to his mouth. Prudence noticed and made a disgusted sound, but not before Nick noticed a flash of something else in her features.

Sadness.

 _Oh,_ Nick realized.

Prudence hadn’t sought him out for breakfast as much as she had for comfort. She would never outright ask for that.

“This is about Ambrose,” Nick recognized with clarity.

At the mention of him, Prudence’s expression hardened.

“He said he loves you.”

“Who told you that?” Prudence snapped back immediately.

Nick decided to keep Sabrina out of the conversation. “He did,” he said. It was mostly true from what Nick had witnessed at the wedding, anyway. Ambrose had apparently written an entire poem with her name as the only line—he could’ve guessed it even without Sabrina’s admission. “He was incredibly drunk,” Nick tacked on once he noticed Prudence looked ready to go after Ambrose Spellman.

“Well,” she said. “Then you know why I have to end it.”

Nick watched her for a moment. She stood perfectly still, but the twist to her face told him she felt anything but calm inside. “Do you want that?” he asked.

“It’s not what our agreement was. He knows that.”

“But do you want that?” Nick repeated.

“It wouldn’t work,” she went on. “I thought Ambrose was the clear-headed Spellman, but obviously, I was very wrong.”

“Prudence,” Nick cut in. “Do you _want_ to stop seeing Ambrose?”

She was quiet for several seconds before she finally murmured, “No.”

“Is it so bad,” Nick began, his voice several shades quieter, “for him to love you?”

“It is the most awful thing in the world,” Prudence admitted, but Nick thought she didn’t sound as genuine as she once had. “It is an unbearable weight. I don’t want it.”

When Sabrina talked about love, she painted it as a liberating thing—something with wings that were broad and sturdy, but gentle all the same. Prudence talked of it as though it were a burden meant only for the most careless of people. Something someone could hurt her with if they wanted to. Nick was like her—or he had been. He wasn’t so sure anymore.

Nick shrugged. “Maybe it isn’t that.”

“It is,” Prudence insisted. “Just because you’ve let Sabrina cloud your—”

“Don’t,” Nick interjected. _“Please.”_

Prudence shut her mouth. Even she realized he couldn’t handle the ridicule right now.

“You could try,” Nick suggested.

Her mouth twisted into a frown. Prudence succeeded at anything she ever did—there was no ‘trying’ involved—and Nick knew that. She clearly didn’t like that he used that against her.

“Well,” Prudence said. “What a nice talk. I hated every bit of it and now I’m leaving.”

Nick took her wrist before she had a chance to cross the small space of his living area to the front door. It was then that he noticed her tremble, and when she turned, the sunlight poking through the blinds caught the wetness in her eyes.

“Prudence,” he said.

“My mother threw herself into a river because a man wouldn’t marry her,” Prudence said. “She picked him over her own daughter. That’s what loving someone gave her. I could never let someone have that power over me.”

It wasn’t the first time Nick had heard the story, but his stomach sank anyway. Prudence had been betrayed once by her mother, and she wouldn’t allow the second time to be by her own hand.

Nick gave her a tug and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her. She stiffened.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Remember when I came to live with you and Amalia?” Nick asked, recalling the first few horrid weeks after his parents’ accident. “The first night I woke up screaming you came and put the covers over my head, then you sat by me until I fell asleep again. I’m putting the covers over your head.”

“I was trying to suffocate you,” Prudence argued weakly. “I didn’t like how loud you were.”

“Sure,” Nick said.

“I hate you,” Prudence announced.

Nick patted her back warmly. “I hate you, too.” He paused for a moment. “Also, I think you owe Ambrose some credit. I don’t think he would ever do that to you. And I don’t think he’d hold your feelings over your head.”

“How do you know that?” Prudence asked. “How do you know Sabrina won’t lead _you_ to the edge and knock you right off?”

“I don’t know,” Nick answered with a shrug. “I just trust her.”

“Now I’m meant to _trust_ Ambrose, too?” Prudence asked with a groan. “This is exhausting.”

Nick laughed and lifted her up off her feet.

“Down,” Prudence said firmly. _“Right now.”_

He set her down after several more seconds of annoying her. Wearing a lopsided grin, Nick said, “You know I would do anything for you, right, Pru?”

“Except get breakfast in the city?”

“Except get breakfast in the city,” Nick agreed, to which she sighed and picked up her bag from his couch. “I meant, if anyone ever hurt you, it wouldn’t just be you dealing with it.”

“Noted,” Prudence replied. She moved with ease this time as she headed for the door again. “I’m going to see if Agatha and Dorcas are up for the trip instead.”

“You do that,” he said.

Once the door shut, he stood in the silence of his apartment for a few moments, before he dropped onto the couch with a sigh. He’d come home the previous night after dropping the girls off at Amalia’s to do the same, his mind shrouded in a million questions, all of which somehow orbited around Sabrina.

It had taken him some time to finally fall asleep after he’d send her that text. If anything, it had only fired off several more questions in his mind.

When he opened his phone up again, it was still there, and still very real. There was no response, but he hadn’t really expected her to give him one.

Nick waited, staring at the lit screen until it hurt his eyes.

Finally, he began to type.

*

Sunlight played shaped along her ceiling, dancing through the ivy outside of her window. Sabrina stared up at it, her book still stuck on the very same page she had opened it to.

She pressed her lips together and thought of the moonlight reflected in Nick’s dark eyes. Despite the sky full of stars above both of them, she had still felt like the most important thing in the universe then—at least to him.

The pile of blankets beside her stirred. Sabrina pretended to read as Ambrose emerged from his cocoon, bleary-eyed and confused.

“Good morning,” she said, shoving a glass of water in his direction. He didn’t question it and gulped it down quickly.

“I had an awful dream,” Ambrose rasped out as he handed the glass back to her and shoved the heavy layer of quilts off his body. He was still dressed in the clothing he’d worn to the wedding, and it made him cringe. “Aunt Z killed Hilda and buried her in the yard. But then she woke up. Also, Salem could talk.”

“You’re delirious,” Sabrina decided. “And hung-over.”

“Why am I in your bed?”

“I couldn’t get you up the last flight of stairs after you passed out in the parlor, so I dumped you here.”

“Ah,” Ambrose exhaled, settling back into the pillow. “Wild night, I suppose.”

“I guess so,” Sabrina said, shutting her book and setting it aside. It wasn’t like she was going to get very far with it, anyway. She sat up and crossed her legs in front of her, already dressed for the day since she’d risen some time ago, unable to sleep. And it hadn’t been because of her snoring cousin in bed beside her. “Nick said you were crying over Prudence.”

Ambrose opened one eye to look at her. “I was what now?”

“Crying,” Sabrina repeated. “Over Prudence Night.”

He was silent for several moments before he finally asked, “Did she notice?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I think so? She didn’t look very happy when she left.”

Ambrose sighed and rolled over so he was facing her. “That’s thrilling news. But enough about my love life. Or lack of, I should say.” He sounded bitter and sad. Sabrina gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I noticed you and Nick were rather cozy.”

“We kissed,” Sabrina revealed, ignoring the heat that blossomed in her chest at the solidification of it. It was as if revealing it somehow made it feel more real and not a distant dream or something she might have imagined.

“You sly dog,” Ambrose said, brightening up the revelation. Sabrina blushed. “And that’s all?”

“Well, you’re in my bed, so clearly nothing else happened,” she said, pulling her leg out of its crossed position to kick him lightly. It didn’t matter, anyway. She and Nick still had a lot to figure out, even if thinking about rolling around in the sheets with him made a fiery mess of her stomach.

“For now,” Ambrose said, ducking away as she swatted at him. He lifted off her bed, his spine popping in various places as he stretched. “Mind if I use your shower?”

She didn’t know why he bothered to ask. He was going to do it either way. “Go for it.”

He dipped out after that, shutting the bathroom door behind him as he exited. The shower turned on shortly after, and Sabrina released a sigh. She rolled over onto her stomach and reached for the phone off her nightstand. The text from Nick was still on the screen. She’d looked at it again just before she’d forced herself to put her phone away for good the previous night, hopeful for a good night's rest despite knowing she hadn't had a chance at that.

As she stared at it, three little dots appeared at the bottom, indicating that he was typing.

Her stomach stirred with excitement. She felt like she was a teenager again.

A few moments later, his message came through.

**Nick [11:10AM]:  
**-can we talk?  
-in person

 **Sabrina [11:11AM]:  
**I was hoping for that too-  
Cee’s at 7?-

 **Nick [11:12AM]:**  
-perfect  
-and good morning 🙂

After sending him back a quick ‘good morning’ of her own, Sabrina chucked her phone back onto the nightstand and buried her face into her pillow. She felt her smile crease the fabric, and it almost hurt how wide it was.

Moving her head to the side, she peaked at Salem. He was buried in between her pillows, annoyed that he’d been forced to a small corner of the bed.

“You like Nick, too, don’t you?” she asked.

Salem yawned back, and Sabrina laughed as she reached out to ruffle his fur.

*

Dying sunlight crept in through the crowded window at the front of Dr. Cerberus, coloring the interior in warm, caramel shades. Paired with the red lights strung up along the window, it was equal parts cozy and spooky.

Her eyes swept the mostly empty interior, searching. The corners of her lips went up when she spotted him.

Nick was seated toward the back, in a small booth under a retro lamp, leaning over a book. The warm weather had put him in a short-sleeved shirt the color of old smoke, his leather jacket gone. She tried hard not to focus on the way it hugged his arms as she neared him, instead choosing to pay attention to her feet lest she fall on her face before him.

He was entirely immersed in his reading, his features softened, absentmindedly fumbling with his hair. It took him a second to notice her, and when he did, he sat up and looked a little embarrassed.

“Hi, Nick,” she greeted.

He smiled back crookedly, and she felt as though someone had doused her in a bottle of champagne, the air bubbling and tingling against her skin. She took a seat quickly.

“Hi,” he responded, shutting his book and sliding it across the table so it was out of the way. Then, he folded his arms in front of him, leaning gently against the table. “I ordered your shake already.”

“Mint chocolate with chocolate chips on top instead of the cherry?”

“That’s the one,” Nick confirmed, his smile turning into one of amusement.

She blushed. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

They settled into silence. Wave after wave of quiet, which quickly turned into an ocean of awkwardness. The jukebox went on quietly in the background, helping them to some degree, at least. Sabrina looked across at Nick. He was focused on her, almost as if he were trying to read her.

He opened his mouth at the same time she did.

“Sabrina, I—”

“Listen, Nick—”

“—Sorry—”

“—My bad.”

They both exhaled, tensing in embarrassment. She didn’t think she’d ever seen Nick so flustered.

“Go ahead,” he said politely.

She shook her head. “You first.”

Nick took a second, running his hand through his hair while he gathered himself enough to form a proper sentence. She hated this, the awkward tension, the sorting out before the resolution. She wanted to reach across and fold herself in his lap, hold his face in her hands, and kiss him until they were both clear-headed. That was enough of an explanation, wasn’t it?

But then again, she also wanted something else. She wanted to listen to him say it.

“I know we were trying to be friends,” Nick began, tapping his fingers nervously along the laminate, “and I want that—I do—but…”

“I want to hear you say it, Nick,” Sabrina prompted. She curled her fingers around the edge of her seat and felt the wooden frame dig into her skin. It was all she could do to keep still.

“I never did get over you,” Nick confirmed, and as nice as it had been to receive his text the previous night, it felt so much nicer to hear it in person, this time with his voice clear and sober and his own.

“I’m sorry,” Nick continued, “it’s not fair to you for me to pretend like I ever stopped wanting you. I need you to know that, but if friends is what you want us to be, then that’s what we’ll be. I won’t overstep. I promise. I won’t kiss you again.” She heard the quiet longing in his voice. _As much as I want to,_ she almost heard him say. “I just…I want you in my life, Sabrina, in any way that I can have you.”

It took every bit of her strength not to shout: “I don’t want to be your friend.”

In the second that it took her to realize her wording, Nick’s face fell, hurt blooming across it. “Okay,” he said because he was a stupid, stupid boy and he didn’t understand. How could she ever be his friend when the option to have him in other ways existed?

“No, Nicholas, I don’t want to be just your friend,” Sabrina corrected. “I kissed you back, didn’t I?” She reached for his hand, unfurling his fingers to intertwine them with hers. The connection, as small as it was, filled her to the brim with a light as warm and golden as the remnants daylight outside. “I want you as my friend, but I want more. I want you, not just in any way that I can have you, but in _every_ way.”

She watched Nick shiver as though she had just fed him the sweetest of fruits, as though he had been parched and she had offered him the last drop of water in the world.

“I am afraid though, Nick,” she whispered.

“Impossible,” Nick said. He was so certain of her. “You have never been afraid of anything. You’re fearless.”

“I don’t want us to mess this up again,” she confessed. “Aren’t you afraid. I mean, at all?”

“I’m terrified,” Nick confirmed. “But I trust you. Do you…trust me?”

“Yes,” Sabrina immediately replied. “I do.”

“We’ll take it slow,” he assured, as he lifted their joined hands to run his lips across her knuckles. He was still shaking. “Do you want that?”

She nodded, yet somehow, she felt that would not be the case at all. As Ambrose had put it, she and Nick were a fire waiting to happen. And it was true. She felt it every time they were together, that heat that had never fully been extinguished, living just beneath the surface of every interaction they’d had since she’d set foot in Greendale. There was no slow with Nick Scratch. There was only burning.

She felt it now, looking across the table at him and seeing the way he was watching her. When Nick let go of her hand to run his fingers down the delicate skin on the inside of her forearm, she felt herself lean in.

“Will you say it again?” he murmured, eyes as warm as summer.

She traced her thumb along the line of his jaw and gave in with a smile. “I want you,” she whispered sweetly, “you doofus.”

His mouth fell open, eyebrows knitting together in offense, despite that he looked ready to laugh. “I’m smart,” he defended.

Sabrina giggled at his pout and sat back as the waiter brought over their shakes. “You’re very smart.” She paused. _"Sometimes."_

He flicked the wrapper of his straw at her, and then laughed when she missed throwing hers back at him. 

*

Later, she pulled him out of the diner and into the night, her hand clasped in his, smiling as he bumped into her. They stood under the flickering streetlight, shivering from their shakes—from each other.

He was close enough that she felt the breath behind his words when he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

She had promised herself, her first night back in Greendale some weeks ago, under that very same streetlight, that she would never again get caught up in the likes of Nick Scratch. But then, as she pulled him in and he followed, pressing his cold lips against hers, she did just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have lift off, folks. Slow-burn's over! 
> 
> Thanks for reading--let me know what you thought! 
> 
> You guys are the best, truly!!


	21. one single thread of gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> where's that one gif that's like 'started it, had a break-down, bon apetit' cause that's me right now. I will never write another chapter with this many damn characters involved ever again!!!! lol!!

*

“How’s aunt Hilda?” Theo asked as he plunged a red and white paper straw into his milkshake. Cookies and cream—extra cookie bits and a chocolate swirl inside the glass—his usual. He took a sip and melted in satisfaction.

Sabrina had opted for an ice-cream sundae, the unusually blistering heat outside made it nearly impossible to enjoy anything else. Even at the cafe that morning, they’d slung out more iced coffees and teas than usual.

Now, later into the afternoon, after jumping at the first chance to hang out with all of her friends at once, she was seated in their usual booth at Cee’s—a tiny and cramped arrangement with her pressed between the wall and Roz.

“She’s happy,” Sabrina said. “She and Cee just go back from their honeymoon in the mountains. Next week, they’re starting their moving process. After that, it’ll be ‘goodbye’ to nightly feasts at the mortuary. Ambrose and I plan to savor tonight.”

“That’s awful,” Harvey said, sounding sympathetic. He understood the worth of Hilda’s dinners, having sat in on many of them himself. She didn’t just make food—she made masterpieces.

Sabrina nodded as one of Cee’s waiters set down her sundae before her, heaped with fresh fruit and strawberry syrup, and handed her a spoon. “Yeah, but Ambrose convinced her to indulge us on the weekends, at least. She was more than happy to oblige. I don’t think aunt Hilda’s ready to give up Sunday roasts with the family either.”

“Aren’t you going to miss her around the house?” Roz asked. “Popping into your room to deliver tea and cookies? Or just to say hi?”

“Of course,” Sabrina answered immediately. “But the little cottage she and Cee bought is just around the corner. Plus, with how busy all of us are—her at the cafe and auntie Zelda in the morgue—the mortuary sits empty most of the day anyway.”

“And you‘ll be off soon enough,” Theo said. “Poor Ambrose is going to be all alone in that big house most of the time.”

“I doubt it,” she replied with a huff of laughter. “He loves having the house to himself.” She remembered coming home recently to find him dancing in the parlor, a Fleetwood Mac song blaring in the background and the cat he claimed he hated cradled in his arms. Somehow, she’d gotten pulled into it, too, and it had ended with all of them sprawled on the floor sometime later.

“Anyway,” Theo said, transitioning the conversation. “Harvey’s been thinking about buying jorts and I think this is as good a time as ever for all of us to collectively shut that idea down.”

“Ew,” Sabrina said, sticking out her tongue. “Not that, Harvey.”

“They’re not jorts, Theo,” Harvey defended. “They’re denim shorts.”

“Those are called jorts, Harv,” Roz said sweetly.

“Whatever, it’s hot and they’re practical!”

“Harvey,” Theo said seriously, “no.”

They went back and forth a little while longer, joking and teasing Harvey as he got progressively more flustered over his apparent desire for a pair of denim shorts of his own.

The bell above the door chimed sometime later, lost to nearly all of them except Theo.

“Hey, look, Sabrina.” Theo pointed out.

Sabrina looked over her shoulder and caught the sight of Nick entering. He hadn't noticed them, still lost in whatever he was doing, but her heart thumped a little harder regardless. 

“Now that we don’t hate him, I have something to admit,” Roz began with a sigh, “that boy is dreamy.”

Sabrina had always considered Roz to her wisest friend, and that opinion still stood strong to this day. She was certain that admitting her feelings for Nick had somehow made him all the more attractive. The dark shades of gray that had once clouded her images of him had shifted to favor the sweet, honeyed golds of a summer sunset. 

“Let’s ask Nick what his opinion on jorts is,” Theo said.

“Let’s not,” Harvey responded quickly, but Theo was already raising his hand to wave.

“Hey, Nick!”

Even though it was Theo that called him, Nick saw her first, and his expression brightened. He was wearing a smile when he approached them.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Do you think Harvey should buy jorts?” Theo asked immediately.

Harvey flattened his palm across his face and groaned, “Oh my God.”

“My suggestion is: no,” Nick offered. "Unless you want everyone in town looking at your pale legs."

“I thought you were at the shop today, Nick,” Sabrina cut in before the discourse continued. His attention turned on her and she saw the corners of his mouth hike up into an even bigger smile.

“I’m just running out for a few minutes before Melvin leaves,” Nick answered. “I wanted to see if Cee got in anything new this week.”

While Cassius’ stocked everything and anything in sight, the horror genre was a niche specifically reserved for Dr. Cerberus'. It had been an agreement between both men back when the businesses were first founded, and it held steadfast to that day.

“I’ll come to look with you,” Sabrina suggested, carefully standing up in her seat, stepping over the back of it, and into the neighboring booth so that she wouldn’t have to disturb Roz since she was occupying the aisle seat. Nick opened his arms for her, and she fell into them, giggling softly when he spun her and sent her little sun-dress fluttering.

He set her gently down on her feet, but she didn’t let go just yet. Instead, she pulled him in for a kiss, felt him gasp against her lips before he dissolved against her like sugar into warm tea. They separated several seconds later. Nick’s gaze was gentle and unwavering.

“Hi,” he whispered, and his voice was enough to make her want more.

“Hi.”

Someone cleared their throat behind them, and they glanced back, albeit slowly, to find her friends all ducking their heads down, pretending to be enthused by the menus they practically never looked at.

“So, um, fries,” Theo said. “We should order them, right guys?”

“Fries sound great,” Roz agreed.

Harvey was standing, awkwardly shuffling out of the booth, saying, “Yes, fries. I’ll go order them,” as though it couldn't be done from the table where they were seated.

Sabrina looked back at Nick. “Come on,” she said.

She took his hand and they slipped around to the front, ducking behind a shelf of books and small collectibles. She spun, fingers in his shirt so that her back was against the shelf and he was pinning her against it. He grinned for a split second before she pulled him down for another kiss—one a lot less sweet, tinged with a heat that rivaled the summer air.

When they broke apart, Nick’s hands were gripping the wooden shelf above her head. Her own fingers grasped the collar of his black shirt, keeping his face inches from hers.

He exhaled, breathless, nearly swaying on his feet, and asked, “where am I?”

Sabrina giggled, the sound lost in the sliver of space between them. The sun bore in through the window of the shop, but Sabrina felt as though she was caught in a fog, struggling to see, feel, hear anything that wasn’t him. It seemed she wasn’t the only one.

“You’re at Cee’s looking through his books,” she said once she felt confident enough to speak without stumbling over her words.

“Fuck the books,” Nick said, craning his head down just enough to make her smile widen. “Kiss me again. Just like that.”

“Mm,” she hummed against his lips, one hand sliding up to the thread through the hair at the nape of his neck. Nick’s eyes fluttered shut and he kissed her a third time, drawing a sweet sigh from her. “Come to the mortuary for dinner tonight.”

“What?” Nick asked.

“I had dinner with your family,” Sabrina said. “Come have dinner with mine so I can prove to you we’re a dozen times weirder.”

Nick grinned crookedly. “Are you trying to take me home, Spellman?” Sabrina smacked his thigh playfully and he laughed. “Okay, sure. I’ll have dinner with your family. As long as it’s okay with your aunts.”

“Please,” Sabrina began with an eye-roll. “My aunt Hilda has apparently been trying to invite you over for dinner for ages now, and I know you’re aware of that, so don’t try to act like it’s new.”

“She’s made a few suggestions, yeah,” Nick said. “Brought up that you were single more than once, too.”

Sabrina shook her head at her aunt’s supposed antics. At least she was finally over Harvey and her persistent idea that they would eventually get back together. “The one that might give you some trouble is Zelda, but I think you’re charming enough to handle her inquisitions.”

“Older women love me, Spellman. Don’t worry—ow, hey, stop pinching me unless you plan to take this elsewhere.” His lips drew across the soft line of her jaw, drawing her stomach into a tight knot as she felt the hint of teeth graze the sensitive skin there.

“You’d better not try to flirt with my auntie, Scratch,” Sabrina warned jokingly, tapping his chest with her pointer finger. “Come by the house at six?”

He caught her hand in his and moved back to nod. “I’ll be there.”

“Great. I’m going back to my friends now,” Sabrina said with a cheeky smile before she withdrew from him. The air suddenly felt considerably cooler when she wasn’t in his grasp, but as much as she wanted to stay, she knew the others were waiting on her. He looked just as disappointed, if not more, to lose her.

“Wait—” Nick spun around, keeping her in his line of the sight, wearing that look of pure innocence she’d only ever seen him don when he wanted something. “One more?” he asked in the sweetest voice she’d ever heard him use.

Laughing softly, Sabrina drew him in once more. “Six,” she whispered against his lips.

“Six,” he promised.

*

Sabrina started down the grand stairwell in the Spellman mortuary to find her aunt Hilda and Ambrose plastered against the window beside the front door, both of them hunched over and squinting through the curtain. Hilda had a wooden spoon in her grasp, the steam spinning wildly from it an indication that she had run out of the kitchen in a hurry. Ambrose held Salem in his grasp, and Sabrina swore the cat looked just as nosy as them.

“Is that him?” Hilda asked in a hushed voice.

“It has to be. I’d recognize those broad shoulders anywhere…” Ambrose commented. “Those Wolfes are the second most attractive family in Greendale.”

“Who’s the first?”

“Well, _us_ of course, auntie.”

Hilda was a giggling mess by the time Sabrina made it to the base of the stairwell.

“Good God,” she observed. Hilda and Ambrose both jumped away from the window, startled by her entrance. “You would think this is the middle ages and the two of you are trying to sell me off for a goat.”

“No, love, we’d never try to sell you off for a goat.”

“No, never,” Ambrose assured. “We’d give you away for free.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes and made her way across the foyer. Through the curtains, she could make out Nick’s silhouette as he approached, back-lit by the sun.

The smell of smoke tickled her nose and Sabrina glanced back to find Zelda hovering nearby.

“Really?” Sabrina asked. “You too?”

She took a long drag from her cigarette and shrugged.

“Okay, quiet. Positions, please,” Ambrose directed. Hilda shoved the wooden spoon behind her back and straightened her posture, giving her hair a little fluff. Zelda ducked back into the hallway, cocktail in hand, and disappeared behind the old wallpapered walls.

“We’ve been waiting for this much longer than you,” her cousin insisted.

“What—”

“Shh!” Ambrose hushed aggressively and then, in a very dramatic manner, he swung the front door wide open and threw on his grandest smile.

“Oh,” Nick mumbled, his fist raised to knock, now looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Nicholas! Why, what a lovely surprise...”

Sabrina’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t believe the theatrics that were happening before her very eyes. “You knew he was coming, auntie!”

“Hi, Miss Spellman—or rather, Mrs. Cerberus?” Nick tried, offering a charming smile as he extended out his hand. Hilda bypassed and pulled him into an embrace instead.

“’Hilda’ is just fine, sweetheart,” she assured.

Nick smiled. “It’s nice to see you again. Congratulations a second time.”

“Well, aren’t you just as sweet as a gum-drop,” Hilda said, giving him one final squeeze before letting go. “We’ll have to catch up at the table. We’re having roast chicken with herbs and fresh garden potatoes.”

“That sounds amazing,” Nick told her.

A little ‘ping’ sounded in the kitchen and Hilda jumped excitedly. “Oh—! And that’ll be the peach pie. Excuse me, my darlings, I’ve got to run. Sabrina, Ambrose—settle Nicholas in?”

“Yes, auntie,” they both replied before she darted off in a fit of giggles and vanilla-scented air.

Sabrina opened her arms, expecting to greet Nick next, but Ambrose swooped in and threw an arm over his shoulders, handing her a disgruntled Salem to hold instead. It was like someone had dropped a bright orange traffic cone right in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.

“Come along, mate,” he said, giving Nick a friendly jostle. “I’ve got a bottle of bourbon I’d like to crack open before dinner.” He stuck a finger out in front of Sabrina’s mouth before she could invite herself and added, “No girls allowed.”

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“As the morgue below, cousin,” Ambrose replied with a wink.

Sabrina spun on her heel as her cousin began to haul off her dinner guest toward the parlor. “What the hell, Ambrose?” she fired after him. “You can’t just take my—!”

She could feel the temperature in her cheeks rise. Ambrose paused and looked back at her, one brow raised higher than the other. “Your what?” he asked.

“Nick!” Sabrina said helplessly, her eyes on him, hoping for some sort of back up.

“Look at that,” Ambrose said, slapping Nick on the chest. “You’re her ‘Nick’. How sweet. Toodles, cousin, we’ll see you at the table.”

“Ambrose!”

She saw the hint of an apologetic smile on Nick’s face just before Ambrose pulled him around the corner and they were gone, leaving her standing in the entryway, the door still swung open behind her.

“What just happened?” she asked, dropping her eyes down to look at Salem.

The cat gave her one long, lazy meow.

*

“We need to have a serious talk,” Ambrose said, handing Nick a glass of bourbon and a handful of darts. They stopped several feet from the dartboard on the wall, Ambrose watching him closely.

Nick glanced at him a bit nervously, expecting him to bring up Sabrina and his ‘intentions’. He’d never had that talk with anyone, never having involved himself in his partners’ lives deep enough to warrant it. He braced himself and asked, “What’s up?”

“Did Prudence say anything about me?” Ambrose asked.

Nick dropped the dart he’d raised from his line of sight, his hand falling back to his side. He was certain his expression had morphed into confusion, judging by the look of concern Ambrose was giving him.

“Sorry,” Nick apologized, “I really didn’t expect you to ask me that. I thought you were going to lecture me about your cousin.”

Ambrose’s face twisted. “Sabrina? She’s a grown woman,” he said, shaking his head. “No, I don’t care about that—I mean, no offense, I do care, I just don’t care right now, you know? You guys are fine, whatever, blah blah.” He stopped to look at Nick very intently. “Did she mention me. At all? Tell me word for word what she said.”

Nick thought about what Prudence would do to him if he dared to reveal the fact that she’d confided in him about Ambrose. The worst-case scenario would be that she would never talk to him again, and Nick wasn’t going to lose a second sister, so he said, “No,” and left it at that. He thought it was best.

Ambrose sighed and took a heavy swig from his glass. Several seconds passed before he spoke again.

“I love her,” he revealed. “Your sister.”

“Uh, cool,” Nick said awkwardly, pretending to be very focused on the dartboard. He didn’t think he was supposed to tell Ambrose that Sabrina had already filled him in on that.

“Not cool,” Ambrose corrected. “She hardly talks to me now. I should have just kept my bloody trap shut.”

“Prudence is going to need some time,” Nick said after a pause. “The whole ‘giving yourself completely to someone’ is not really her thing. Be patient with her.”

As much as he wanted to reassure Ambrose further, Prudence’s trust was far more important to him. He would never reveal the things she had told him in secret, not when he knew how hard it was for her to confide in people.

She had just as many of his own insecurities in her hand and Nick knew, deep in his heart, that she would never betray him either. It was a promise they’d made to each other at eight, their little pinkies intertwined under the blanket fort they’d put in the corner of Amalia’s living room. He didn’t need to ask her again to know the promise still stood.

Ambrose would just have to wait until she trusted him enough.

“Wait for her,” Nick said.

“I’d wait lifetimes,” Ambrose admitted.

They both stood in contemplative silence for a couple of seconds, before Nick pinched his tongue between his teeth and tossed another dart. It bounced off the board and fell to the floor pathetically.

“Fuck,” he mumbled. Ambrose burst out laughing.

“Give me the darts, mate, you suck.”

*

“Am I allowed in here to tell you guys dinner is ready?” Sabrina huffed from the doorway, her hands on her hips. Nick looked up when she entered, giving her a little crooked smile that made her knees a weak and her chest warm.

“Jealousy’s not a good look on you, cousin,” Ambrose teased, pouring a glass of red wine and handing it off to her. She smiled in spite of herself. “I only wanted a few moments with my friend before you swindled him away. Heaven knows his attention is entirely stolen any time you’re around.”

As if on cue, Nick tore his gaze away from her to glance back at Ambrose. Clueless, he asked, “What?”

“Case in point,” Ambrose said, shoving a finger in his direction, making Nick blush.

Her smile tugged up at the corners and she waltzed over to where he sat in a lounge chair, slipping her arm around his shoulders once she reached him.

“Are you ready for the feast Hilda has prepared us?” Sabrina asked.

Nick stood and his arm slid alongside to rest at her waist, thumb absentmindedly slipping under her blouse to run along the sliver of skin there. She leaned into him and tried not to imagine what it would feel like to have his hand slide up a little higher, to have him touch a little more. It had been so long ago, but it was still hard to forget the way his hands had moved so skillfully across her, the way they had forever made her wonder if she'd ever feel something like that again. She bit her lip at the thought that, one day, maybe soon enough, she'd get to feel that again.

“Off we go,” Ambrose said.

Ambrose led them through the house to the dining area. The others were already inside, settling various serving dishes brimming with food along the table’s quickly diminishing surface.

A woman peeled away from the group to join them, extending out a hand adorned with variously sized jewels toward Nick.

“Oh, I haven’t introduced you two yet, have I?” Sabrina said, perking up, and leaving her previous train of that far behind. “Nick, this is Miss Marie LeFleur. She moved to Greendale last year. Marie, this is Nick Scratch.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nick greeted.

“Likewise,” Marie said with a warm voice. “Come. Sit. Don’t fear the red lady, she’s plenty kind under the surface.” She winked at Zelda when she glanced back in offense.

“You already know Cee and everyone else,” Sabrina said as Hilda directed them to their seats. She sat beside Nick, Ambrose to her left. 

Before they were even fully in their seats and digging in, Zelda looked up and cleared her throat. “It’s a pleasure to have you with us, Nicholas,” she greeted. “What brings you so close to my niece? At our table, none the less.”

“Here we go,” Ambrose said, filling his plate with potatoes as Hilda carved him a hefty serving of chicken, “Dinner and an interview. Thank you, auntie Hilda.” Aunt Hilda gave his head a little pat in response.

“Auntie, please.”

“I only want to get to know our dinner guest,” Zelda defended.

“Zelds, potatoes? Marie?”

“Yes, Hilda, please. The little red ones.”

“You know Nick. This isn’t the first time you’re seeing him. Can we just have a normal dinner where we say things like ‘please pass the salad’ or ‘how was your day?’ not—”

“What are your credentials, Nicholas? Do you have a 401k plan set up?” Ambrose provided, trying his best to mimic Zelda’s voice.

“Exactly,” Sabrina said, pointing at her cousin while keeping her gaze on her aunt. “That.”

Zelda glared at them both, as if to where they had acquired the audacity. Marie put a hand over hers and gave it a squeeze.

“It’s fine,” Nick said. “I don’t mind. I’m not really sure what you mean, though, I’ve known Sabrina most of my life.”

“I’m aware,” Zelda said. “I remember you darting between the shelves in the bookshop, and attending school with Sabrina, but I’ve only recently noticed you becoming a more prominent figure in her life again.”

“We went our separate ways for a while,” Nick said cordially and without revealing too much. Sabrina breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t sure she wanted her aunt in on her past with Nick, especially when he hadn’t even made it out of the woods with her yet.

“Sabrina to law school and you…” Zelda began. Sabrina knew exactly what her aunt was playing: figure out Nick’s career path in order to sort out if he was fit to be with her. Sure enough, Zelda asked, “Where did you go off to, Nicholas?”

“UC Berkeley, ma’am,” he replied.

“What did you study?”

“A little bit of everything,” Nick explained. “But my focus was on business. I left with an MBA.”

“Well,” Zelda exhaled, meeting eyes with Sabrina. “A step above scribbles, isn’t it, Sabrina?”

“A career in comics is a perfectly fine endeavor,” Sabrina defended.

“Right. Drawing grotesque creatures as more than a hobby surely does secure a future, doesn’t it? As does picking away the collapsing mines his father can’t seem to get rid of? I’m sure you and Mr. Kinkle would have had a fine life together—him reeking of coal while you carry the household on your shoulders. And forget about traveling anywhere…”

Sabrina glared into her potatoes. Nick pretended to clear his throat, she assumed in order to keep from laughing, while Ambrose outright laughed without care. “Harvey and I already broke up, auntie, you can drop it…” she grumbled.

“And thank the Heavens for that,” Zelda said, raising her wine glass. “So—” She returned her attention to Nick “—you left Berkeley with an MBA and yet you work at a bookstore?”

Sabrina’s fork clattered onto her plate. “Aunt Zelda, not that there would be anything wrong with working at a bookstore, but Nick doesn’t _just_ work there, it’s _his_ now.”

Zelda raised a single brow. “Cassius left you the shop?”

“He did,” Nick replied. “I’m here indefinitely, and Cassius never had children so there wasn’t anyone else to take over. He wanted to retire.”

“And he trusts you,” Sabrina said, drawing a smile from Nick.

“And he trusts me, yeah.”

“Well, that is something indeed,” Zelda said. “I knew your mother. We were in the same grade. She was a lovely woman, you take after her—”

“So I’ve heard,” Nick said, giving a small nod.

“—However, your father I hadn’t really met. He was something of a businessman, wasn’t he?”

Nick nodded again. “He was.”

“Is he the reason you chose a degree in business, as well?” Zelda asked. “I see that as an admirable feature. Sabrina’s taken a lot of inspiration from her father, too.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Sabrina noticed that his responses had grown smaller and that Nick had begun to pull back again. He seemed to do that whenever his birth parents were brought to the spotlight—she’d gotten an answer like that when she’d asked a similar question, too. Wanting to change the topic, she reached for his hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.

“I never asked you, Nick,” Sabrina began. She thought would ask him about something she knew he didn’t mind talking about. “What sort of work did Amalia do?”

“She hasn’t told you?” Nick asked, perking up a bit. “I thought she’d already given you her life story, Spellman.”

Sabrina smiled and shook her head.

“She worked as a charge nurse at Greendale General until a few years back. It’s why she’s so bossy.”

“Oh,” Hilda sat up in her seat, at the mention of Amalia. “How is Miss Amalia? I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to her at the wedding before we were all over the place.”

“She’s fine,” Nick said. “Bored out of her mind most days.”

Hilda looked sympathetic. “I can imagine. She doesn’t really like being cooped up, does she? And how is…everything?”

“Some days are better than others,” he said. “Right now, she’s doing good.”

Sabrina realized they’d never discussed Amalia’s sickness in great detail. Frankly, she had almost entirely forgotten he’d mentioned she was ill, especially considering how lively Amalia generally seemed to be.

“I do need to try and see her again soon,” Hilda said. “I’ll bake a fresh batch of danishes, huh?”

Nick smiled. “I’m sure she’d like that.”

Their conversation drifted slightly to something more casual until her aunt decided it just simply wouldn’t do. Zelda never had liked it when things got derailed, and she had started the evening off with a mission that she wanted to see through.

She set her wine glass down and looked Nick directly in the eye.

“Do you want to be with my niece, Mr. Scratch?”

The table went slightly quiet. Nick looked a little surprised that she had come right out and asked.

“That’s up to her, Miss Spellman…”

“I suppose what I mean is, do you think you have what it takes? My niece is not just anyone to me—to us.”

“I—” Nick paused. He glanced at Sabrina briefly.

“Aunt Zelda—” she began.

“She is destined for great things, as her father was,” Zelda cut in, her eyes still on Nick. “She is clever, sharp-witted, albeit a little reckless, at times. She was raised to be ambitious, and she is. That can be intimidating to some, and I worry about her well-being and her livelihood.”

“Aunt Zelda…I can take care of myself just fine—”

“That’s not the matter, child,” Zelda said. There was a motherly tone to her voice, as rare as that was. “It’s a matter of finding your equal. Someone who is fit to stand beside you. Not before you, and not behind you, either. I don’t want you to waste your time, Sabrina, on someone who may feel threatened by you, or want to denounce your freedom when he feels he’s being challenged by your desire for greatness.”

Zelda glanced at Marie momentarily, before her eyes were right back on the boy before her.

“To be clear, Miss Spellman, if you don’t mind—” Nick started. Zelda nodded. “I’ve known Sabrina for most of my life. I’m well aware of all of her qualities. I know that her heart encompasses so much and so many. I know that her love is bigger than me and as great as it is, it’s never been something I’ve wanted to bottle up and stow away just for myself…”

Zelda opened her mouth, but Nick continued.

“And before you ask: I have zero intentions of holding her back, or asking for all of her time. I would never tie her here, nor would I ever push her into a life I know is far too small for her, where she has no say. I want to be included in her life, to be important to her. I want to be someone that she can count on, to stand beside her and hold her hand, but it would never come at the expense of her well-being. I would never ask, or force her, to give up her freedom for me.”

Zelda nodded once and pressed the rim of her wine glass to her lips. Sabrina saw the hint of a smile there.

In her chest stirred something wild and foreign as she glanced over at the boy seated beside her. At that moment, she was certain they had both grown substantially since their last brush in high-school. And yet, Nick had always been this way with her, hadn’t he? He had never wanted to keep her chained, never wanted her to be more than her rebellious self.

She gripped Nick’s hand tighter. He glanced over at her, a little clever smile flitting over his features.

“Also, I’m not really threatened by her. She’s like five foot two, at best,” he teased.

“Nick Scratch,” Sabrina gasped, her mouth falling open suddenly and in shock. She kicked him under the table. “You have some nerve!”

“Hilda,” Zelda said, drawing her sister’s attention. “Let’s bring out that pie. And Mr. Scratch?”

Nick looked up.

“I can assume you’ll be at dinner next weekend? What is that we’re having, Hilda…?”

“Lamp chops, Zelds,” Hilda said eagerly, standing up and shuffling out of her seat. “Sabrina, you’ll help me with dessert? Ambrose, love, top off everyone’s drinks, please.”

They both rose.

“Can we switch? I help with dessert instead?”

“You just want to stick your finger in the whipped cream, Ambrose,” Sabrina fired back.

The remnant of a potato hit her square in the face before Ambrose ducked out of the room and she went flying after him, leaving her aunt shouting after both of them.

*

It was dark when Sabrina walked him out to his car, stopping just beside his door. Nick turned to face her, his hands sliding over her waist, tugging her toward him. It didn’t take much until she was leaning against him, content to be there in the quiet with him, away from the bustle of her family.

“I guess I passed,” he said, wearing a proud smirk. Dinner had taken a turn for the better, Zelda mellowing out a touch, the others collectively joining in until the table rumbled with laughter. Ambrose spilled his drink all over his slice of pie, and argued with Sabrina for half of hers. She'd eventually shoved him her entire slice when Nick had suggested sharing his with her, and they'd ended the evening with her on his lap, brushing crumbs from each other's clothes and listening to her aunt Hilda and Cee recount their trip to the mountains.

There was something about looking over and catching him in mid-laugh over a joke her cousin had made, something about watching him smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges, at Hilda’s sweet gestures—something that made her feel so incredibly full.

It had felt right. 

“I guess you did,” Sabrina said, her fingers sliding up his shirt to rest at his chest. “I wasn’t worried, by the way. I knew my aunt Zelda would end up liking you. And I told you, my family is just as nuts, if not more, than yours.”

“Your family loves you,” Nick said, threading his fingers through her hair tenderly. “I…”

He kissed her. She didn’t notice it until he was there, lips against hers, working magic under the stars. Whatever he had intended to say drifted away like smoke in the air, replaced instead by the sound of crickets crooning their love songs from afar.

They stayed close afterward, his thumb grazing her chin. She could’ve stayed there all night.

“Nicholas?” she whispered, the added syllables of his full name allowing her the pleasure of tasting him a little longer.

He lagged a little bit in his response, drunk from the kiss like her. “Hm?”

“You are important to me.” She looked up to make sure he was paying attention. Nick’s eyes were normally dark, the sort of brown that was only noticeable up close, but tonight, the night clung to them until they were nearly black. “It means everything to have you here with my family. To have you holding my hand. But it’s the same for me, too, you know? I want you to count on me, as well. I want you to hold my hand when you need it. It’s not a one-way street, this…with us, I mean.”

Nick nodded gently.

“You already have,” he told her. “You’ve held my hand more than you realize it, Spellman.”

And then he pressed a sweet kiss between her eyes. It was a promise.

She didn’t have to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zelda is tough, but she means well. Although, her digging into Harvey over trying to live off art...*cries in art degree* That me!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts if you'd like! 
> 
> Also if you don't follow me on, [tumblr](https://bunivys.tumblr.com/), maybe you should? We have great fun over there haha.


	22. you and me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi...hey, nothing 'explicit' in this chapter, but if you don't like intimate stuff, maybe skip the end. But like I said, it's super faint since I'm still learning how to be comfortable writing them.

*

The cafe’s display case was filled to the brim with sweets of all sorts. There were pies with varied fillings, their crusts golden and finished with a dusting of caramelized turbinado. Little tartlettes sat beside them, crowns of plump berries glittering like jewels under the light. The blueberry scones, though less showy than some of the other desserts, were still a town favorite and had to be stocked regularly.

Sabrina sorted them neatly, fixing the tiny sign that specified each dessert to the front. Beside her, Ambrose was partially on a stool, partially over the counter. Phone in hand, he yawned in boredom, causing her to glance his way.

“You could help, you know,” Sabrina said.

“I put in more hours here than you, dear cousin. I’m always working,” he replied. Ambrose thumbed the air over his shoulder, pointed it in the direction of the entrance, and added, “By the way, hot piece of ass incoming.”

As if on cue, Nick strolled in through the door.

Sabrina shut the display case and pinched Ambrose’s side with the kitchen tongs she’d been using to maneuver the dessert around. “He’s more than a hot piece of ass,” she defended, eyeing Nick as he made his way across the cafe and toward them. He smiled when he saw her, the bright edge of it sweeter than all of the pastries Hilda’s could offer. “He’s the whole package.”

“I’ve heard he’s got a great package,” her cousin added and then yelped when she pinched him again. He grabbed the tongs and tugged them, nearly knocking her off her feet in an attempt to relinquish them from her grasp.

“Morning,” Nick greeted.

“Hi, Nick,” they replied in unison, stopping their scuffle. Sabrina tossed the tongs onto the counter beside them and dusted her hands off on her apron.

“You’re here later than normal,” she commented. Nick usually showed up right after they opened to grab a coffee before he went off to start up the bookstore. That morning’s rush had come and gone and he hadn’t shown up.

“I had an early morning so I had a coffee at home,” he said. “I’d like a refill, but…actually, I was hoping to talk to you, too.”

Sabrina looked at Ambrose. Nick joined, and it wasn’t long before they were both blatantly staring, trying to get the message across that they needed space. After what seemed like forever, Ambrose finally got the memo and slunk off his stool with a sigh.

“Fine,” he said. “I get it, love-birds. I’ll go bother Hilda.”

“What did you want to talk about?” Sabrina asked as she picked up a to-go cup and started on his usual order, which she had to admit, had begun to grow on her despite how roughly she had regarded it in the past. As bland as his coffee order was, he made up for it in other ways, and Sabrina figured everyone had to have something that humbled them.

“What are you doing tonight?” Nick asked, his fingers tapping softly at the counter. Sabrina glanced at him from the corner of her eye, noted the way his playful nature had been tinged with a hint of nervousness.

“I was going to put on my favorite pajamas and watch reruns of ‘90 Day Fiance’ with Ambrose and Salem.”

“Think you could reschedule?” He followed her down the line as she headed for the espresso station and pulled three clean shots from the machine. “If something else came up?”

Sabrina bit back a smile and played along, pretending not to follow despite that the thumping of her heart told her she knew exactly what was coming next. Her fingers worked quickly, detaching the portafilter and dumping the grounds into a nearby trashcan.

“Hmm,” she mused. “I don’t know…I was really looking forward to sitting at home being completely judgmental about other people’s relationships.” She paused to look at him. “I guess it would depend on what the other option was…”

The expression on Nick’s face was clever. “What if it was a date?”

That time, Sabrina couldn’t help it. The smile she’d been holding in finally slipped through and she felt her cheeks ache in response. Capping the coffee and sliding it across the pick-up counter toward him, she asked, rather slyly, “A date with who?”

Nick grinned, and like an arrow aimed expertly at her heart, it landed true. “I was hoping me.”

“Well, if it’s you…”

“So, is that a yes?” Nick asked. His face was so bright that the corners of his eyes had creased at the edges. It was a look she wanted jar up and keep aside for the days when the rain never seemed to stop, for days when the clouds covered up the sky and kept the sun hostage. A slice of never-ending summer, just for her.

Sabrina couldn’t help it when she leaned over the counter and kissed his cheek.

“It’s a yes,” she said. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

A date, she thought. A date was as far as they got last time, and as excited as she was, she also couldn’t fight off the hint of hesitation that fizzed away in her stomach, the fear that it would fall to shambles again.

Except, she reminded herself, this time was different. She and Nick were grown, and something as petty as a miscommunication wouldn’t be their downfall. Not this time.

Nick picked up his coffee and stepped back a step or so when another gentleman entered the cafe.

“Where should I meet you?” Sabrina asked.

“I think you’re off before me, so why not stop by the bookstore? We can go from there.”

“Sure,” she decided. “What are we doing?”

Nick winked at her just as the other customer stepped up to order. “I’ve got something in mind, Spellman. Leave it to me.”

*

Sabrina skipped up the few shallow steps in front of Cassius’ and slung open the door with a vigor. It was mostly quiet inside, with nothing but the sound of slight creaking coming from the floorboards and a subtle shuffle from a couple of aisles down. She followed the sound and found Nick organizing a stack of books onto the shelf, his attention stolen, and for a moment, she allowed herself the opportunity to just look at him.

The warm weather outside had pulled his hair from its usually brushed back appearance, leaving it curling away from his face and neck. His brows were set, focused, as he perused through the various titles in his hands, the books balanced precariously between his fingers. It was oddly mesmerizing.

He hadn’t noticed her yet, so she snuck up and poked his side. He jumped, startled, and the little sound he made when he nearly dropped the books made her fall into a fit of laughter.

“Haha,” Nick said in a dull voice that clearly let her know he wasn’t amused, but it only made her laugh harder. “You almost made me drop these.”

“Oh no, not your precious books,” Sabrina said in mock sympathy.

Nick shook his head, the hint of a smile ghosting his lips. “Sorta regretting asking you out now.”

“Too bad,” Sabrina said. “You can’t take it back now.”

“No, I can’t.” He set the books down on the stepladder beside him and motioned for her to come over. She hadn’t realized she’d stepped into a trap until he had her against him, one hand trailing to her side to the bit of skin peeking out between her top and jeans.

“Nick!” she squawked and tried to tear out of his arms just as he began to tickle her.

The smile on his face extended into a full-on grin. “Who’s laughing now?” he asked as she squirmed around.

“Still me!” Sabrina choked out, her eyes watery as he continued to tickle her. She managed to tear out of his arms and immediately darted away. At the center of the shop, where a small seating arrangement sat for those who wanted to hang around and read, she dove behind one of the vintage green love-seats, Nick following her.

He pinned her there, but before he could start to tickle her again, she pulled at his collar and kissed him. His hands stilled, her distraction working, but Sabrina didn’t make any attempt to pull away, drawing out the kiss for as long as she could.

It deepened, her hands moved from his collar and over his chest. It was as though something brazen and bold took residence in her body when she used her palms to push him, Nick groaning as his back hit the arm rest—a sound that sent a roaring fire through her.

She didn’t know how she ended up on his lap, only that she was suddenly there, and that Nick’s lips were dragging along her neck and over her collarbone. A soft airy sound left her, and when he whispered her name, there was a reverence that clung to it, coated it like honey. His hands were sliding over her waist, slipping under her blouse, pulling her close, right up against—

“Uh, hi,” a nervous voice broke in.

Sabrina’s head snapped up in shock, realization hitting her like a brick wall when she recalled where they were. At the center of a very public, very open bookstore. With Melvin staring at them.

Sabrina didn’t know what to do so she waved. Melvin waved back awkwardly.

Meanwhile, Nick looked annoyed. “What are you doing here?”

Melvin glanced around as though he’d been asked a trick question. “I work here?” he finally answered after a few seconds of careful consideration.

“Oh, yeah,” Nick remembered. While Sabrina tried to extract herself from his lap as gracefully as she could, he didn’t appear the slightest bit embarrassed. He even pecked her once more on the lips before he stood up and adjusted his shirt. The one she had nearly torn off his body, she reminded herself. Wow, things truly had taken a turn.

“I’m going to go clock in,” Melvin said, eager to leave. “Good to see you again, Sabrina.”

“You too, Melvin.”

Nick looked back at her as Melvin ducked out, regarding her flushed appearance. Sabrina pressed her lips together and tried to quell the heat that still pricked along her skin by running her hands up and down her arms. It didn’t help much, and it only reminded her of the way Nick’s hands had done the same not too long ago.

“There are a few things I need to check in with Melvin about. I’ll be right back, and then we can head out?” He paused for a moment. “You alright, Spellman?”

“Just peachy,” Sabrina answered.

“Frustrated?” Nick asked.

“I’ll throw a book at you,” she retorted.

Nick laughed, the sound low and sweet and not much of a help at all. She saw the hint of a smug expression just before he slipped out the same way Melvin had, leaving her alone on the love-seat, the remnants of his warmth still lingering along her skin like a ghost.

In the midst of the quiet, her phone pinged in the small cross-body bag she’d brought along. When she pulled it out, there was a text from Ambrose.

**Ambrose [6:15PM]:**  
-you skipped out on me for dick  
-your own cousin  
-I couldn’t be more proud of you

She shoved the phone back into her bag in a hurry.

*

Nick stepped outside and told Sabrina, “Close your eyes.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Just do it, Spellman.” He flashed her a smile so sweet it nearly made her eyes roll. Then, Nick said, “Please?” and Sabrina simply sighed, because it seemed he had found her weakness and was eager to exploit it as often as he could.

“Fine, but I’m doing it because I want to, and not because you’re very cute,” she insisted.

“As long as you think I’m cute,” Nick said. “Now: eyes closed. No peeking.”

Sabrina squeezed her eyes shut, a visible furrow in her brow. It wasn’t like she took orders particularly well, as Zelda liked to often remind her, and yet here she was, standing in the middle of the street, probably looking very ridiculous with her eyes closed, awaiting her next instruction, all because Nick Scratch thought it would be neat to make their date a complete surprise to her.

“Okay, okay. Again, I don’t know why you’re having me do this…”

He bopped her nose. “Because you’ll ask too many questions.” He paused in consideration. “Also, I’m trying to be spontaneous. I heard that’s what makes dates fun.”

“You know what makes dates fun? Letting your date see so they don’t end up running into a wall and capping off the night with a concussion.”

“I’m not going to let you run into a wall,” Nick said matter-of-factly. He shifted, the air around her moving as he came up behind her and settled his hands on her shoulders. Sabrina tried not to shiver when he leaned in and his breath tickled her ear. “Spin.”

“Spin?”

“Yes,” Nick confirmed. “You know every damn inch of this town. I need to disorient you a little bit to keep you guessing.”

“Mm, romantic,” Sabrina hummed. “I hope you don’t do this on first dates with strangers.”

“Sabrina Spellman, you’re the only person I’m willing to make a fool of myself for,” Nick told her. She smiled cheekily, but it was short-lived because he began to turn her. He let her go once she was comfortable enough spinning a few times around on her own.

She stopped, feeling slightly dizzy, and asked. “That enough?”

“Perfect. Now, take hold of my arm.” He moved closer and she held out her hands, feeling around for him. Once she had a well enough grasp on him, she smiled.

“I think I’m starting to like this game,” she said, giving his bicep a squeeze. Nick chuckled in response.

“No peeking,” Nick reminded her, fingers settling over hers.

“No peeking,” Sabrina echoed in slight mockery.

The walk was short. Sabrina knew they hadn’t left the main street due to the lack of transportation involved. And while she had kept her promise the entire way there by keeping her eyes closed, she still was beaming by the time they reached their destination and Nick halted.

“I know where we are,” she declared.

“You don’t.”

“We’re at the Paramount,” Sabrina said. “Aren’t we?”

“How the fuck…” Nick narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You looked, didn’t you?”

Sabrina opened her eyes and started to laugh. “Nope. But like you said, I know every inch of this town. We turned right by the cafe—I know because I smelled it—and then we passed the buzz from the barbershop, then the arguing from the Ruzek’s butcher shop. We stopped at a crosswalk for a bit, and then we turned and…” Sabrina motioned above them to the theater's large, flashing sign. “The Paramount.”

“I can’t say I’m not impressed, Spellman.”

“Sorry to ruin the spontaneity,” Sabrina said as Nick’s arm came around her waist. He pulled her close as her eyes trailed up to the sign displaying the current showings. “What are we seeing?”

Nick shrugged. She was too preoccupied skimming the titles to notice the clever gleam in his eye. “How about a double feature?” he asked. “I was thinking ‘Rosemary’s Baby’ and ‘Daughters of Satan’.”

Sabrina’s head snapped up to look at him, confusion riddling her face. Everything flooded her mind at once: the giddiness preceding their missed date; the walk to the theater, the sound of her shoes on the pavement, the flutter of her dress along her thighs. And then the waiting that ended with him never showing; the disappointment that followed right after. The rain, cold as it soaked through her dress.

“That’s what we were supposed to see,” Sabrina reminded him. “When you asked me the first time. That’s…”

“I know,” Nick said.

“But those aren’t playing…”

“They are in theater three. Just for us.”

“Nick…”

The English language seemingly vanished from her mind, leaving behind a buzz of static as she tried to sort out what was going on. And then, the flutter of excitement, starting as a small match-stick flame and growing to a full on forest fire as she began to form a realization.

“I pulled some strings,” Nick continued. She looked at him again, noticing the flush that grew along his cheeks, painting his olive skin like a soft wash of watercolor. “I wanted to make up for before…And I thought—maybe you’d like it if we got to have our date. It’s a few years late but I’d hoped—”

Nick paused his rambling for a single second, his face dissolving into a slight panic before he said: “Oh my God—did I read it wrong? Was this messed up? I should’ve probably asked fir—”

She kissed him in the middle of his sentence, catching him off guard, the weight of her body against his unsuspecting form nearly knocking him off his feet. He caught her with his arms around her waist and held her up as she hung from his neck, kissing him repeatedly until they were both smiling—her in excitement and Nick a little more bashfully.

“I don’t know what to say,” Sabrina said, her voice shaking with excitement. “Nick—this is perfect. But how did you…Old man Mr. Frances is really strict. He wouldn’t let me request a film for my birthday no matter how many times I bugged him.”

“I’m not really proud of my methods…”

“Nick,” Sabrina said in a scandalized whisper. “You did not flirt with Mr. Frances…He’s like, a hundred years old!”

“Sabrina, as flattered as I think am with you thinking I’ve got what it takes to flirt my way to the top, I’ve gotta tell you, you’re sadly mistaken,” Nick said, a bubble of laughter rumbling up from his chest. He looked a little embarrassed as he revealed, “I got my mom to help me.”

“You used Amalia to help get you a date? Nicholas Scratch, I can’t believe you.”

Nick shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“And how did Amalia feel about being part of your little scheme?”

“Amalia was eager to help. She once pretended to fall in a grocery store just to get the attention of a boy I thought was cute, so you can imagine how excited she got when I told her she could berate a cranky old guy for free,” Nick said. “And he was incredibly mean to me when I asked him initially, so she really let him have it.”

Sabrina imagined Nick hanging back while Amalia tore Mr. Frances a new one over the phone. The image nearly made her laugh.

She was in the perfect position to kiss him again, so she did, though it proved to be difficult with how wide her smile had grown. “I’m so happy, Nick.”

His face lit up again. Her sunlight, no rain in sight.

“I want to try again, Sabrina. I really do.” He lifted her higher, pressed his forehead to hers. Sabrina saw a promise in his eyes. “You and me.”

“You and me,” she repeated.

*

‘Daughters of Satan’ hadn’t been a particularly good movie—awful, in fact—and they’d both agreed on that about half-way through the film. In a completely empty theater room, it had been easy to get lost in one another, and even Sabrina, the girl who prided herself in being a ‘shush-er’ at the movies, found a reason not to care.

Harvey would have an aneurysm if he knew.

In the car ride over, after deeming the innocent drum of his fingers against her thigh as the reason for her undoing, it had been her who’d suggested that they go to his place. “I don’t want to go home yet,” Sabrina had said. “Ambrose will bother me.”

Nick had gazed at her so intensely at the red light that the car behind them had to blow their horn once it was time to go. And even then, it had taken a second for Nick’s mind to catch up, his movements sluggish, as he aligned his focus back on the road.

When they arrived, they fell into Nick’s apartment a tangle of limbs, hands grasping at clothing, swaying until the wall beside his entryway caught them. There was a drunken heat lingering along her skin and over all of the places he’d touched, an imprint of something desperate. His lips were rich, far headier than any wine she had ever tasted. They traveled along her jaw and down her neck, his breath like velvet as it passed her ear.

Her fingers were in his hair, tugging, and then traveling down and over his chest, searching for skin, wanting to see if he pulsed hot like her. Sure enough, Nick was a live wire, trembling under her fingertips.

A thought crossed her mind, almost comedic in nature, and she couldn’t help but huff out a soft laugh.

“Aren’t we supposed to be taking it slow?” Sabrina found herself asking, her voice lingering in the air around them. The lights in his apartment were still off, forgotten, leaving them suspended in darkness.

Nick’s voice was rough when he said, “I’ll kiss you slow, then.” At the same time, he pressed his lips to the dip in her neck, and her head dropped back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut. A sigh in the shape of his name escaped her parted lips. “Do you want that? Do you want me to touch you slowly, Sabrina?”

“Yes,” she exhaled immediately. Yes, yes, yes.

Nick worked his way up her neck again, leaving a trail of ghostlike kisses that made her shudder. His fingers brushed her jaw and tilted her head forward so that she was looking at him. It was dark, but she could see the gentleness in his eyes, lingering alongside the lust. “What else do you want, Sabrina? Will you tell me?”

“You,” she answered. “I want you.”

In that very moment, she was certain of one thing: if Nick were marble and she were a chisel, he’d be crumbling into a thousand pieces at her feet.

Gone.

Just like that.

Gone as they traversed the hallway to his bedroom like it were a pilgrimage of sorts. One meant just for them, built of saved books and sugary milkshakes, of frayed, ruined ends to fresh, new beginnings. Delicate, yet tough. Resilient.

Gone as he undressed her under the pale yellow of the street-lamp spilling in through his window, illuminating her to him, and him to her. Gone as his breath hitched in his throat when she tenderly removed his shirt and kissed him over all of the spots she thought others might have missed. His forehead. The hands that held her so well. The corners of those lips that drove her wild.

Gone as he pressed her back against his bed, laid her down as though she were the last bit of blue at dusk, and slotted himself between her legs. Gone as she let her head fall back into the pillow, scented of him, and felt him work his own version of a love language against the inside of her thigh. Then, further, until she was falling apart and grasping at the ends of his hair.

Utterly gone as he moved her to sit on top of him, asking her if she was sure a dozen times over before he finally let her sink down on him, open mouth against open mouth. It was when she tasted herself on his lips that she was certain she belonged there and not on the mouth of anyone else.

It ended with both of them sweat-drenched in the summer air, their legs tangled in the ruined bed sheets. Her, nestled against his side, brushing her fingers over the lines she’d left along his chest. Like a series of undiscovered constellations and her, the astronomer.

His hand was stroking her arm, lulling her to a near slumber, when he asked, “Can you stay?” He offered a quiet pause. “The night…with me, I mean.”

Sabrina stirred, propping her head up just a bit to look at him. His hair was entirely ruined and she felt some pride in knowing it had been her that had done it, her that had nibbled on his lip enough to have left it tinged a pretty red. “Wanna drive me home?” she asked. “Carry me up all those stairs at the mortuary?”

“Mmm,” Nick moaned and sank deeper into the bed. “Not really.”

“Then I guess you’re stuck with me,” she declared, pressing her face into the crook of his neck as he moved to his side, an arm draping over her lazily. She was sure she didn’t want to be anywhere else, didn’t want to hear anyone else tell her how beautiful she was when she moved, how good she felt.

“I’m okay with that,” Nick said, his voice slightly slurred, partly from the sex, partly from the sleep that was slowly overtaking him. “Are you?”

“You and me,” Sabrina repeated. “That’s what we said.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought if you'd like! I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can--but we just got word our company filed for bankruptcy so we're all busy at work trying to get everything sorted out before we leave for good. I'm a little sad, but I'm viewing it as a new chapter in my life, hopefully one with a positive ending :)
> 
> I just want to say: thanks a ton everyone, your comments always make my heart swell. I'm really grateful for your sweet words. Thank you!


	23. if you asked me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say for myself, other than I am sorry for taking so long!

*

  
  
  


**Theo [7:30AM]:  
** -brina  
-are you coming to yoga today?

 **Sabrina [7:35AM]:  
** not today-  
sorry-

 **Theo [7:36AM]:  
** -why??  
-you’re not working today

 **Sabrina [7:36AM]:  
** I’m just-  
Busy-

 **Theo [7:37AM]:  
** -oh  
-boo 😔

 **Sabrina [7:37AM]:  
** i’ll make it up to you next time?-  
it’s just that i can’t really move right now-

 **Theo [7:37AM]:  
** -and why is that?  
-are you seeing another yoga instructor?  
-i’ll find out

 **Sabrina [7:38AM]:  
** nope-  
🍆-  
😊-

 **Theo [7:38AM]:  
** -ohhhhhhhhh  
-you little freak

 **Roz [7:37AM:]:  
** -BRINA!!

 **Harvey [7:38AM]:  
** -huh?  
-oh did hilda make eggplant parm?  
-bring me some?

 **Sabrina [7:38AM]:  
** Harvey...-  
no-

 **Roz [7:39AM]:  
** -🤭

 **Theo [7:39AM]:  
** -you have to ask Nick for that

 **Sabrina [7:40AM]:  
** He better not-  
I’m not sharing-

 **Harvey [7:40AM]:  
** -you gave some to Nick?

 **Theo [7:41AM]:  
** -no I think nick gave it to her

 **Sabrina [7:41AM]:  
** ☠-

 **Harvey [7:42AM]:  
** -nick has hilda’s recipe?  
-she never let me have her recipe...

 **Roz [7:42AM]:  
** -you can’t even cook, harvey

 **Theo [7:43AM]:  
** -god harvey  
-how many brain cells did you wake up with this morning?  
-sabrina got laid dude keep up

 **Sabrina [7:43AM]:  
** don’t be mean theo-

 **Roz [7:44AM]:  
** -I can’t be here  
-I’m with my dad in the house of god right now  
-Pastor John just went up to speak

 **Theo [7:44AM]:  
** -pastor john and nick scratch...  
-two people specializing in religious experiences

 **Sabrina [7:44AM]:  
** THEO-

 **Roz [7:45AM]:  
** -🤣

 **Harvey [7:45AM]:  
** -HOW DO I LEAVE THIS GROUP?

 **Sabrina [7:46AM]:  
** I have to go-

 **Theo [7:46AM]:  
** -tell nick we said hi  
-harvey wants his recipe tell him

 **Harvey [7:46AM]:  
** -HOW DO I LEAVE?  
-ROZ?

Sabrina glanced beside her. Nick was sprawled out on his stomach, face down in the pillow. If it wasn’t for the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed, she might have thought he was dead. Forgetting about her phone, Sabrina leaned over and kissed the spot between his shoulder blades. He moaned but didn’t move.

“Morning,” she offered.

Silence.

She sat back and gave him a few more minutes before she roused him, settling on watching the shadows dance along his back instead. She knew she’d slept with Nick the night before—she certainly _felt_ it—and yet it still seemed so surreal. How did she go from swearing him off completely to finding a spot in his bed?

 _His_ bed.

Sabrina realized she’d never even been in his apartment before this. Lazily, she looked around, trying to soak in what she could from her cozy spot beside him. It was tidy enough, bits of Nick scattered about in random areas. His jacket draped over a chair. Books lingering on pretty much every surface, never too far away. His pants, thrown messily onto the floor—well, that one had been her.

Sabrina dropped her attention to her phone when another text came through. She expected to see a text from her friends but found a message from Ambrose instead. He’d attached a video, as well. Without thinking much of it, she clicked it. 

She quickly realized her mistake.

 _Congratulations on the sex!—_ Ambrose sang, sounding like an interactive birthday card while he twirled around a lazy Salem— _Congratulations on the—_

“Oh—!” She moved quickly to shut the phone off, failed, and ended up screenshotting an image of her cousin’s smug face instead. Flustered, she looked to Nick and saw him staring back at her, a dopey smile donned. Her face flushed bright red. 

“‘Morning,” he said sleepily. His hand came out from under the pillow to stroke the blush on her cheek. “Was that Ambrose?”

“What gave it away?”

He dropped his thumb to run along her pouted lower lip, chuckling as he did. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“Don’t make me kick you out of your own bed,” Sabrina warned.

“Mmm,” Nick moaned as he settled into the pillow again, his eyes shutting. “Not yet. More sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep anymore.” She rolled over onto her side and faced him. “It’s time to get up.”

“Nuh-uh.”

_“Nick.”_

He was quiet. She groaned in frustration and leaned forward to kiss him. Nick opened his eyes.

“I didn’t think you were going to kiss me.”

“If that’s what it takes to wake you up…”

“You know,” Nick considered. “I think it might take a little more.”

Sabrina kissed him again, felt him groan against her mouth when she bit his lower lip. She let her mouth wander lower until she found the sensitive spot on his neck she’d only happened upon last night. Nick sighed when her hand traced even further, disappearing into the sliver of space between them.

 _“Oh.”_ Nick stopped breathing when she slipped beneath the covers, the remnants of her hair disappearing like the trail of a dying star. His fingers went after it, curled into it. “Sabrina,” he said, and then, _“Oh my God—”_

Maybe she couldn’t get him out of bed, but she certainly could wake him up.

  
  


*

  
  


Sabrina propelled over the dirt path with ease, her breathing even, speed steady. The lush green of the wilderness blurred around her as she moved further into it. 

It was a beautiful morning, perfect for a run.

“Keep up, Scratch!” she called out, slowing down a bit to look over her shoulder. Nick was yards away, trailing behind her pathetically. 

“Keep up?” he huffed. “I can hardly breathe.”

“Weren’t you a running back?”

“In high school, Spellman,” Nick replied, _“Years_ ago. Jesus Christ, you sound like Amalia when she made me bring in her brand new washer all by myself.”

“Well, you go to the gym regularly,” Sabrina rebutted.

“Just because I go to the gym doesn’t mean I can run miles like you,” he stuck back. “You run on some sort of energy the rest of us haven’t accessed yet.” He slowed to a stop, leaning on his knees and panting for a beat before he limped off the trail and collapsed onto a small clearing of grass. _“Damn.”_

Sabrina stopped too and turned to face him. “For a guy who can hardly breathe, you sure can complain a lot.” She dropped her hands to her hips. “What do you think you’re doing? We still have half a mile left. _”_

“I’m done,” Nick declared. “Go on without me. The world will simply have to make do with one less hot person.”

_“Nick.”_

“You’re great, you know? You’ll find some other guy to rock your world.”

“I like a lot of rocking.”

“I know. That’s why I can’t run.”

Sabrina laughed in spite of herself and reluctantly wandered over to where he laid like a corpse on the ground. She gave him a once over as she dropped beside him. He was flushed, a thin sheen of sweat glistening along his neck. “I’m not leaving you in the dirt. I like you too much.”

“I don’t think you like me much at all,” he replied somewhat dramatically.

Sabrina gave him a playful eye-roll and then went on to wiggle out of her loose top. Underneath, she was still dressed in the sports bra she’d put on that morning before making the decision to march on over to his apartment and recruit him for a run. _I’m not much of a nature guy,_ he’d said then.

“I take it back,” he countered now when her top was tossed to the side. “I love nature.”

“You’re so full of it,” Sabrina said as she fell back against the soft ground beside him. The warm air breezed through the treetops above them, rustling leaves and sending the bits of sunlight and shadow scattered about into a dance. She felt entirely at peace, there, at the center of the forest with no one else but him and the gentle lull of songbirds.

She rolled onto her side and surprised him with a kiss. Nick eagerly drew her closer and Sabrina moved until she was above him, her legs settling around his waist. She found herself gazing down at him as she picked away the tiny white wildflowers that had tangled in his hair. Nick looked right at home under her tender touch, and his eyes never left her.

“Aren’t you tired?” Sabrina teased when his hands slid up her thighs.

“Never of you.”

She stole another kiss. The hunger was there, lying just under the surface like the thick roots weaving through the forest ground beneath them. It felt older than it should be, as though the connection outlived even them. And maybe it had. Maybe it would follow her into every lifetime.

“How many people come out here?” Nick wondered aloud. 

“Not very many,” Sabrina said. She didn’t always take her runs out in the forest, but when she did, it was usually just her. She didn’t hate it. The solitude and serene atmosphere was a welcomed change to the daily bustle of the cafe. It was somewhere she could get away—something she had missed while she’d been in the city.

His hand trailed up her spine, the touch as delicate as a moth’s wing. She couldn’t help it when she arched against him. 

Then Nick moved, and she was under him, gazing up through the almost hazy forest air, sweetened with summer. The sun peeking in through the treetops sat on his shoulders like a cloak of gold. She touched the hint of it that had spilled over and onto his cheek, let her thumb trace the shape of his face as she soaked him in.

“Interesting,” Nick said, and Sabrina giggled. “All of this endless wilderness... And then there’s us.”

“There’s us,” Sabrina repeated. “And what do you suggest we do with that?”

He grinned at her, and the light of the sun fell in comparison. “Can I show you instead?”

“Why don’t you?”

It started like that—just the two of them, miles from away from town, lost in one another. Nick’s shirt was halfway off, her hands following the hem as she worked it up his torso eagerly when his phone blared out and they were snapped back to reality.

“Just ignore it,” he murmured. 

They tried to. The phone kept ringing and Sabrina kept trying to pull off his shirt and neither went anywhere.

“You should answer it,” Sabrina finally said. “See what they want.” 

Nick dug out his phone like it was the last thing he wanted to do.

He pressed it to his ear and very grumpily said, “Yes, Amalia? How may I be of assistance?”

Sabrina pressed her palm to her mouth to hold in her laugh when she heard the very faint sound of— _Really?_ That’s _how you answer your phone? Excuse me, but I don’t remember co-parenting with a feral animal when it came to raising you, Nicholas, so maybe you want to consider the way you speak to people_ —from the other end. Nick glared at Sabrina when she started to shake with silent laughter.

“Okay, I’m sorry—Yes...Uh-huh. Okay, Amalia,” Nick continued. He slid a hand over his forehead and down his face in quiet exasperation. “No, it’s just that—I’m with Sabrina and—Yes. _Yes,_ I’ll tell her you said ‘Hi.’ No, I won’t forget, Amalia. No...I’m not putting you on speaker. Okay. Okay, fine. _Fine.”_

He pressed something on his screen, and the sound amplified. Sabrina heard the sound of shuffling on the other end, and then his mother’s voice.

“Hi, Sabrina,” Amalia said. “Is he giving you trouble?”

“Hi, Amalia.” She kept her gaze on Nick as she ruffled his hair. He grumbled something and rolled off of her. “No, he’s not. He’s just perfect.”

“Listen, I won’t keep you on the phone long, but I’m making lunch soon and a round of afternoon tea. Why don’t you two stop by?”

“Amalia, we’re kind of busy—”

“We’ll be there,” Sabrina interjected.

They looked at one another. Sabrina smiled sweetly and Nick raised his brows in disbelief. She thought she might have just discovered something valuable, and stuck it to memory. 

“We’ll be there,” Nick corrected, and Sabrina’s smile only grew. They bid Amalia a quick farewell, and then he chucked his phone into the grass beside them. He sighed and she swore the look on his face could only be described as the world’s most dramatic pout. “Cock blocked just like that.”

Sabrina laughed outright and grabbed her top. She bolted up and away from him, running back to the path they’d wandered away from. “If you can catch me, there may still be something sweet waiting for you.”

“Sabrina,” Nick groaned, sitting up. He started up after her despite it. “You know damn well I can’t catch you.”

  
  


*

  
  


After stopping off for a quick shower at the mortuary, and changing into a fresh set of clothes, Sabrina met Nick downstairs. They were off after that, rolling down the winding path separating the mortuary from the rest of town. Windows down and summer air in her hair, Sabrina felt great. Nick’s free hand was in her lap, fingers tangled with hers. 

They pulled up in front of the familiar blue house sometime later. At the front door, Nick told her, “Amalia knows. About us, I mean, so she won’t make it weird.”

Sabrina smiled at his consideration, even though it wasn’t necessary. She knew the Spellmans had Amalia beat when it came to ‘making it weird.’ No one did it quite like them.

Nick pushed open the door and led her off toward the kitchen, hand in hand, while the tune of some old classic filtered through the wallpapered hallway. When they entered, Amalia barely glanced up from the tea kettle she was filling up at the sink.

“Hey, best buds,” she greeted. “You two pick out your friendship bracelets yet?”

Nick’s mouth fell open as if he had just been betrayed.

“Surprise,” Sabrina said. “Guess we’re not really fit to be friends.”

“The best is when you can be friends _and_ be together,” Amalia comforted with a small wink. 

“You said you wouldn’t make it weird,” Nick grumbled.

“Okay, okay, kid,” Amalia said. “I won’t make it weird.” She turned and leaned back against the counter. “What did you two do today? Anything fun?”

“We went for a run through the woods,” Sabrina beamed.

That made Amalia’s brow go up. _“Nick?_ In the woods? And _running_ at that? Did I hear that right?”

Nick sighed deeply.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that it’s not your typical scene,” Amalia replied, shrugging. “You know, I threw him a backyard birthday party once when he was a kid. Halfway through when all the neighborhood kids started playing with water balloons, I realized he was nowhere to be found. I started panicking because I thought someone grabbed him or something. I mean, I had the entire neighborhood and the whole of Greendale’s police station out looking for him.”

“This was a mistake,” Nick declared, but Amalia didn’t let up.

“We finally found him in the basement. Reading an encyclopedia,” Amalia finished. “He was eight. I’ve got a photo of him with his little birthday hat on somewhere in the album. You wanna see it?”

Sabrina bit back her laugh. She kind of did want to see it, but one glance at Nick told her that he was currently dying on the inside. She didn’t see it fit to embarrass him any further.

“I’m glad you’re not making it weird,” Nick said sarcastically. “Thanks, ‘Mal.”

“No problem, kid,” Amalia teased. “It’s good, Nick. I’m glad that you’re branching out and trying new things with your…” She paused and glanced between them. Sabrina could tell she was trying to figure out what word to use. Even she wasn’t quite sure. They two of them hadn’t yet put a label on it, even though they could hardly keep their hands off one another.

She didn't really have much time to think about it. Something bright orange and dangerous danced behind Amalia’s shoulder, and the air began to screech and sizzle. 

The fire alarm went off. She jumped. Nick straightened up. 

“Oh,” Amalia said over the noise, several shades calmer than what was to be expected in a situation like the one they were in. “That would be the soup.”

“The _soup?”_ Nick raced to the stove where a large pot was bubbling over, the contents leaking down the sides and pooling at the base. A small flame danced at the edges. He shut off the stove and pushed the pot to the side, then smothered the little bit of fire before it had the chance to grow. 

Cautiously, he lifted the lid and peered in, swatting away steam and smoke as he did. Sabrina didn’t have to follow suit to know there was hardly any edible soup left in the pot. He turned and asked, “What fucking _soup,_ Amalia?”

“Well, there _was_ soup in there,” Amalia assured as she leaned over the sink to push open the window. Meanwhile, Sabrina grabbed the nearest kitchen towel and began fanning the still blaring alarm until it finally quieted. “Potato leek. I guess that’s off the table now, huh?”

“I guess so, seeing as it’s all over the stove,” Nick answered obviously.

Amalia shrugged. “A minor mishap.”

“Minor? Amalia—there was a fire. Like, an actual _fire.”_

“A small one. It happens.”

Nick ran a hand over his face and sighed deeply. 

“I don’t suppose you could run by Cee’s?” Amalia asked after a couple of seconds. “Maybe pick up something instead?”

“I’ll go anywhere if it keeps you from touching the stove again,” Nick agreed.

“Want me to come?” Sabrina asked, hopping down the counter she’d dutifully thrown herself onto in order to more easily reach the fire alarm. Ironically enough, she’d been tasked with the same job as a kid whenever Zelda tried her hand at cooking. That had been before Zelda took to outright removing the batteries every time she turned on the stove.

Nick shook his head as he patted himself down for his keys. “I think you should stay,” he said. “See to it that Gordon Ramsey here doesn’t burn down the house in my absence.”

“Ha-ha,” Amalia mocked.

“That was some quick thinking, Scratch,” Sabrina said as he passed her, impressed. 

He gave her a wink at the door, and then, in his suave voice, said, “Thanks, I read a fire-safety manual, too.”

  
  


*

  
  


After Nick left, Sabrina suggested she help Amalia clean up the mess. They went through nearly all of the kitchen towels sopping up the remnants of splattered soup before Sabrina stepped back.

“Where do you keep your extra towels?” she asked. “I’ll grab them.”

“They’re in the hallway closet,” Amalia said. “Thank you, Sabrina.”

Sabrina found them easily enough in the tiny cramped closet a few doors down. She grabbed a few towels and made her way back toward the kitchen, but something near the entryway stopped her. A series of tick marks ran up the wooden frame of the archway. 

“This is cute,” she commented, pausing to examine it further. There were marks at varying heights, each denoted by a siblings’ name. She recalled a similar doorway in the mortuary where she and Ambrose would line up as kids and wait patiently for their aunts to measure them and get chastised every time for not being able to stand still. She leaned in and squinted. One mark and name were scribbled out. “What’s that?”

Amalia glanced over her shoulder, smiling as she did. “That’s where Nick tried to cheat,” she explained. “Stuffed socks in his shoes so he could be taller than Prudence for once. You wouldn’t believe the shit he gave her when he finally did gain a few inches on her.”

Sabrina couldn’t help but laugh. “I believe it,” she said, following the names up. There was a mark with a date beside it, followed by Nick’s name. A tiny note was scribbled underneath. It read: _Eat shit, Pru._

Right above that was another note. 

_Agatha in trashy heels. Doesn’t count._

Sabrina had a feeling Nick wrote that one, too.

“This house has been in my family for generations,” Amalia said. “And they treat it like a bulletin board.”

Sabrina giggled and brought over the towels. “To be fair, you almost burned it down,” she pointed out.

“You got me there.”

They laughed together as they cleaned up the rest of the mess. Amalia set up a fresh kettle of water and turned on the stove, despite Nick’s previous warning, and they sat at the small table nearby to wait for its call. Thankfully, water wasn’t as easy to burn as potato leek soup. 

“He always worries,” Amalia pointed out, and then clarified, “Nick. You’d think he’s the parent. He’s going to hang over my shoulder every time I touch the stove from now on”

“He loves you, so he worries,” Sabrina assured. “You raised him well. I can see it in everything he does.”

“Ironically enough, I never thought I was cut out to be a mom, but I’m glad I got those kids. I might’ve raised them, but they taught me a lot, too.” There was a warm smile on Amalia’s face as she laid out the serving tray and all of the tea accessories. 

“My aunt Zelda says the only thing Ambrose and I taught her was how to successfully sneak alcohol into our parent-teacher conferences,” Sabrina said.

“Been there, done that,” Amalia added, and Sabrina huffed out a laugh. She thought back to all the times she’d gotten in trouble at school. A couple of those times, she’d dragged Nick into it, but he’d always been eager to help. Once, a teacher bugged her over a top that didn’t quite fit Baxter High’s incredibly misogynistic dress code. Nick had embarrassed him before the entire class in her honor and it got them both sent to the office. She remembered laughing with him the whole way there.

Back then, she didn’t know about Amalia. She hadn’t known much about Nick’s life outside of what she saw at school.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Go for it,” Amalia said.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad Nick had you when his whole life changed,” Sabrina began, wincing slightly at the thought of Nick’s parents and their untimely deaths. “But what happened to the rest of his family? Why did no one else step forward?” She knew they would have more likely gotten custody over Amalia.

Amalia shook her head. “Both of his grandparents were already gone, and he only had one other aunt on his mother’s side. She lives out in Connecticut. From what I remember, she and his mother had a bit of an age gap between them, and were never really close.”

“Why didn’t she try to take Nick?” Sabrina asked. “I mean...even if she and his mom weren’t close, Nick’s her nephew.” Zelda and Hilda had taken her and Ambrose both in a heartbeat. 

“She didn’t want him,” Amalia said. 

A bit of Sabrina’s heart chipped away. 

“Why not?”

“Nick’s parents left everything to him,” Amalia explained. “The house. Every last penny. I think that made her angry. She showed up once when he turned eighteen, intent on talking him out of it, I’m sure. He didn’t even have full access to his inheritance yet, but she tried to weasel her way in anyway. I didn’t really let her get much out before I got in my car and drove her off the lawn.” She shook her head. “Didn’t check on him even once when he was growing up, but the second there was money involved, she suddenly had a claim to stake. I could have killed her, I think, if Nick had let me.”

“Wait a minute,” Sabrina said, a lightbulb going off in her head. She remembered Amalia mentioned running over an aunt at the wedding. “Is that aunt Lena?”

“That’s her. I had my license revoked that day, but I’d do it again if she showed up.”

“Well, I’ve still got my license. In case she comes back,” Sabrina said and Amalia started to laugh. 

Sabrina recognized it. Nick’s laugh sounded the same. That was how she knew there was plenty of love there, because her own laugh sounded like Zelda’s, and Ambrose’s like Hilda’s.

“I’ll tell you what, I can see exactly why Nick likes you. You make your own rules, don’t you?”

Sabrina blushed. “It’s what I’ve been told.” 

“Good,” Amalia said. “Don’t let anyone change that.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, and then stood, gathering their empty teacups back onto the tray.

“Let me help,” Sabrina suggested, moving to stand, but Amalia held out a hand. 

“That’s alright, I’ve got it. You stay put. Nick will be back at any moment and we can finally have lunch.”

Sabrina settled back in the chair and looked at the clock herself. She hadn’t realized how quickly the time had flown by, and how easy it was to lose herself in a conversation with Amalia. With her attention stolen, Sabrina almost didn’t notice it when Amalia faltered in her step. 

Then, Amalia stumbled and collided with the counter.

Sabrina flew to her feet and grabbed Amalia before she went down. The china from the tea tray clattered to the floor, sending shards flying every which way. The front door slammed shut and Sabrina called out, “Nick!” 

He came running in, tossing the paper bags he’d grabbed from Cee’s onto the counter and reaching for Amalia. “I got her,” he said. “It’s okay.”

“I’m fine.” Amalia gripped the counter and helped straighten herself up, but Nick didn’t let her go. Sabrina had a hand on her shoulder, afraid that if she, Amalia would topple over again. “It’s just my hip. The pain’s been flaring up. It’s fine.”

“I’m calling Dr. Loey tomorrow.”

“It can wait until my appointment next week,” Amalia assured. 

Nick blew out a sigh and glanced at Sabrina. He wasn’t going to argue right now, so he suggested, “Let’s eat in the living room. I’ll put you in your chair.”

Amalia pulled back and shook her head. “I can walk. I’m fine now.”

Instead of letting her go completely, Nick compromised and pressed her hand to his arm to guide her. Amalia conceded and went along with him. Sabrina wasn’t sure what to do, so she took the bags by the handles and followed. Her hands shook, and she could feel her heart beating against her chest. Everything had happened so fast.

Nick met her in the hallway after he settled Amalia into an armchair in the living room. “Are you okay?” he asked, watching her carefully. She could tell he had noticed the distraught look on her face and had become worried.

Sabrina nodded. “I’m fine. Is she okay? She didn’t get hurt, did she? I didn’t see her hit her head but...”

“She’s okay,” Nick confirmed, cupping her cheek. “Her hip gives her issues sometimes. It’s why she’s at home most of the time. She forgot her phone when she went for a walk once and ended up collapsing. Prudence was already on her way over, thankfully, so she found her.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you. You caught her just in time.”

“Of course. I’m glad I was there,” Sabrina said. “That’s really scary, though, Nick…She was fine and then she just...”

His thumb stroked along her cheek. The beating of her heart began to calm at the gentle gesture. “Don’t worry. She’s tough. Can’t cook for shit, but tough.”

Sabrina laughed quietly.

“Come on,” Nick said, giving her chin a little tap before he took the bags from her hands. “I got you a milkshake, and I’m not even counting it as one of your four.”

“How kind of you.” 

He smiled and pecked her on the lips.

  
  


*

  
  


Nick joined her on the creaky old swing out back a little later and they sat in the afternoon sun, sipping on the remnants of their shakes. Amalia had stayed behind, told them it was her _Golden Girls_ hour and left it at that. Nick let Sabrina know it was a lost cause to bother her then, and so they departed for the backyard for a bit before he drove her home. 

“Amalia told me about your aunt.” Sabrina looked at him. “The one she tried to kill.”

“Oh, aunt Lena.” Nick nodded. “Yeah, that was fun. Amalia said to get the bail money ready and then just got in her car and went.”

“I don’t like her. I hope she never bothers you again.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think she will. She thinks Amalia is crazy, and she should.”

“Good.”

The swing creaked as it swung gently.

“Nick?” Sabrina asked after several seconds of comfortable silence. He had his arm around her shoulder, his fingers grazing softly over the exposed skin there. She had been thinking, in that small moment of time before he’d joined her, about something she figured they should address. Sooner rather than later. “In your eyes, what do you think we’re doing?”

“Uhh, looks like we’re sitting outside.”

Okay, that was her fault.

“No, dummy.”

He smirked. “It’s hot when you call me names.”

“We’ll unpack that later,” Sabrina said. “What I mean is: are you my boyfriend?”

Nick’s features softened. His smirk shifted to a gentle smile. “Well, I hope so,” he said quietly. “Is that what you want?”

A smile flickered to life on her face, too. “What do _you_ want? You never tell me, you know.”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” Nick said seriously, raising her hand so he could kiss the back of it. “Can I have that spot?”

“Okay,” Sabrina decided. She dropped her head against his shoulder and felt his laugh rumble up from his chest. Her heart felt full.

“Okay,” he repeated.

And it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse this chapter for being all over the place. Nick and Sabrina really just can't keep their hands off each other. They're kinda in the honeymoon stage right now, you know? 
> 
> Thanks for reading guys! Please let me know what you thought, if you'd like to, and as always, you can come bother me over on [tumblr!](bunivys.tumblr.com) I just put up a poll on which fic will come next so give it a look if you feel like it! 
> 
> Thanks so much!


	24. wild, consumed, and alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that Sabrina doesn't make the best decisions.

*

  
  


“Like this,” Sabrina said right before she lifted the pitcher of frothy milk and poured a near-perfect rosetta into a readied cup of espresso. She wore a satisfied smile as she glanced up at Nick, adding, “Now you.”

Nick held up his own pitcher of milk in preparation, giving the milk a little swirl like he’d watched Sabrina do. Frankly, he had no idea what he was doing. The three minutes or so that Sabrina had spent explaining the brewing process and milk preparation to him, he had been focused on her lips, his mind buzzing with flashbacks of all of the ways they had been on him the night before. In the end, he hadn’t picked up a word she’d said, but he wasn’t about to let her know that.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sabrina asked.

He chuckled and gave a little shrug. “Just thinking about how I’m about to take the title of ‘hottest barista in town’ from you.” He already had one of the café’s extra aprons.

The corner of her lip quirked up and so did Nick’s heart in his chest. “Someone’s confident. Go on, Nick, the milk’s getting cold.”

“Okay, okay. Here I go.” He tapped the bottom of the pitcher on the counter a couple of times—yet another action he’d seen her do—and went forth to pour his very first latte. Most of it ended up on the counter, exactly as he had expected it to.

Laughter bubbled out of her and Nick smiled, happy that she had found some sort of amusement out of his inabilities. “You poured from too high up!” she said between laughs. “You’re lucky you’re not here for a job. There’s no way I’d hire you.” She grabbed a couple of towelettes and they began cleaning up the mess, shoulder to shoulder, both of them glowing with laughter.

“Your loss,” Nick said with a shrug. When they were finished, they settled back against the counter to share her coffee, since the one he’d made was beyond saving. It was the best coffee Nick had ever had, and he didn’t even need to taste it to know that. “I happen to think I’d make the work place a lot more fun.”

Sabrina set her coffee down and tapped her chin thoughtfully, playing along. “Really, how so?”

“Well,” he said, his voice low as he moved to trap her against the counter. Her red lips curved up into a pretty smile that made his heart stumble and his knees weak. “I’ve got a few ideas. Let’s start with…”

He sank into the kiss the way the sun did into the horizon, slow and mesmerizing, losing himself in it.

“I’m about to be sick...”

Nick looked over Sabrina’s shoulder and saw Prudence standing just a few feet away on the opposite side of the counter, Ambrose beside her. He raised a brow in consideration. It seemed something had shifted between the pair, judging by how close they stood to each other.

“Ambrose!” Sabrina squawked. Her blush made Nick smirk. “You’re off today. What are you doing here?”

“I am. Did you hire some new help?” Ambrose said, motioning with his hand at Nick’s apron. 

“It was quiet in the cafe,” Sabrina explained. “Nick came by to keep me company, and I tried to show him how to pour a rosetta.”

“Tried,” Nick repeated. 

“Yes, it does seem he’s doing a swell job at keeping you company. I do hope you at least wipe the counters down afterward.”

Sabrina’s blush deepened. Prudence made a gagging sound into her palm. “Ambrose!”

“Hey, listen,” Ambrose began, nonchalantly changing topics. “Dorian’s throwing a rager at the bar tonight. The two of you should join us. It’ll be fun.”

“Since when does the Grey Room do ragers?” Sabrina asked. “Dorian comes off as way too classy.”

“It’s strictly a once a year occurrence. One night where he allows loud, distasteful music, and bad behavior. With the crowd, it means he can rack up the prices on his drinks and make quite a penny,” Ambrose explained. 

Nick shrugged. It wasn’t exactly his scene. He preferred the usual laid back atmosphere at Dorian’s. “Loud, distasteful music, and bad behavior is an understatement. It’s just an overly trashy party. I went last summer when I was in town and ended up with a shard of glass in my hand.”

“That’s because you got drunk and told Dorian you could do magic. You attempted to make a glass disappear by smashing your palm into it,” Prudence corrected.

“Well, I remember it differently,” Nick dismissed. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We have plans.”

Sabrina nodded. “We were going to have a movie night tonight.”

Prudence rolled her eyes. “God, Sabrina, could you leave the granny panties behind for one evening and do something worthwhile?”

“Come spend a night with us,” Ambrose said in a much nicer tone than Prudence. “Soon you’ll be gone and you won’t ever think of your poor old cousin again.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Okay, sap,” she grumbled before she looked over at Nick. “What do you think? Should we check it out? We can always leave if it’s not what we expected.”

Nick had been looking forward to spending the night with her in his apartment, far off from the rest of the world, where they could eat popcorn and make out and maybe indulge in something a little sweeter later on in the night. But, he supposed a night out could be fun, too. So long as it was with her. 

He slipped an arm around her shoulders and said, “If you want. I’m down.”

“Okay, well I’ll head home after we close up and get ready. Then, we can go from there.”

“Prudence and I can swing by and pick you up,” Nick added, deciding he should stop by his place and change, too. “How’s that sound?” He looked at his sister and Ambrose.

“I don’t care,” Prudence said simply. 

“I care and I think that sounds great,” Ambrose added.

“Alright, it’s a plan then.” Sabrina pulled away from him to head for the doors at the back of the cafe, the ones that led to the kitchen. “Hey, Ambrose, now that you’re here, maybe you can help me out. Hilda’s making honey-almond cookies tomorrow and I need you to reach the honey jars...I don’t want to break them.”

“Ugh,” Ambrose groaned but followed her anyway. “It’s always something with you short ones.”

Nick waited until the two of them were gone before he leaned over the counter in front of Prudence, watching her. “Hey,” he said. She glanced up from her nail. “So...are things with you and Ambrose…?”

“I’m trying, Nick,” Prudence answered, her mouth pressing into a thin line, a sure sign that she didn’t want to talk about it right then. She assured him by saying, “I am. It’s...difficult.” She cringed slightly, not liking that she had to admit that.

Nick nodded. He knew when to stop digging when it came to his sister. If she needed him, she would probably just sneak into his apartment and ambush him again, and Nick would pretend like it bothered him when in reality, he was just happy to help. 

“You’re spending a lot of time with Sabrina,” Prudence pointed out, glancing at the doors the cousins had escaped through. 

He couldn’t help it when he smiled. Ducking his head slightly, he pretended to look at something on the counter so that she wouldn’t see the dopey look on his face. He was still trying to get used to the rush that always seemed to flood his chest when he thought of Sabrina. 

“She...makes me happy,” Nick said simply because it was true and easy to admit. He felt free when he was with Sabrina, like nothing in the world could ever hurt him, but he felt that maybe Prudence didn’t want to hear all of that. “You already know that.”

“Yeah,” Prudence said with a short nod, “I think do.”

  
  


*

  
  


Sabrina turned around at the sound of a knock, expecting Nick, and nearly jumping when she saw it was Prudence. She didn’t look very excited to be there—Sabrina could tell as much from her upturned nose and the heavy aura of judgment radiating from her as she took in the quaint room. In her sharp heels and runway-ready outfit, Prudence didn’t exactly look like she fit into the cozy, wallpapered background of Sabrina’s childhood bedroom. 

“Can I help you?” Sabrina asked after several seconds of watching Prudence stand about awkwardly.

“No, but I can help you,” Prudence insisted, not offered. Sabrina just shrugged and turned back around to her task at hand. There were several outfits splayed out along the surface of her bed, with a few extra tops thrown over the wrought iron headboard, and she had yet to officially choose one. She had gone to several wild parties in college, even if they had been few and far between thanks to her often heavy load of schoolwork, but this wasn’t a college party. It was a bunch of adults getting loud and wasted in a rather upscale bar—different somehow.

“Thanks, but I don’t really need any help. I think I know what I want to wear already, but I pulled out a few other things just to be sure. There are things in that closet that I’ve entirely forgotten about.”

“I can’t blame you,” Prudence snapped as she came to stand beside her, wincing visibly at the display of clothing. Sabrina offered her a mild glare, but Prudence didn’t seem to care, tapping her chin thoughtfully before she reached out and grabbed a couple of items. She held them out for Sabrina. Among them was a black skirt, slitted along the side, and a satin top with thin straps. “This. It’s the best you’ve got.”

“I was actually thinking—”

“This,” Prudence said again. It was obvious she hadn’t meant it as a suggestion. Giving in, Sabrina sighed and went off to her bathroom to change. When she returned, Prudence stepped back and pursed her lips in thought. After a second or so, she sighed and shook her head, then slipped out of her sleek black jacket and tossed it toward Sabrina. 

Sabrina fumbled in confusion, nearly dropping the garment. “Wha—”

“Put it on,” Prudence directed with a flick of a hand, as though Sabrina was dense and didn’t know the function of a jacket. She slipped it on, but only because she didn’t think it would be proper to cause a scene at that very moment since Nick was there and he might not like it if she pushed Prudence down the stairs.

Turning in the mirror, Sabrina gasped softly. The jacket was light in weight and smelled like expensive perfume, but the length hit her just right despite Prudence being taller. It definitely upped her outfit several points, adding a certain elegant aspect.

“Thank God,” Prudence sighed behind her. “I thought there would be no saving you tonight.”

“How kind,” Sabrina replied as she turned around to face her. “Nick is right. You are so mean.”

A sharp smile rose on her lips. “I’m glad Nick speaks of me so fondly.”

Sabrina sighed and shook her head. “Why do you even care what I wear? Shouldn’t you keep your nice jacket for yourself?” 

“You’re going out with my brother and I. I can’t have you as an eye-sore beside us, Sabrina,” Prudence explained as if it were obvious. 

Sabrina knew that wasn’t the case. At least, not completely. Nick kissed her just as sweetly when she was dressed in her apron and fresh off a shift at the café as he did when she wore a dress and heels. He certainly didn’t care. And if he did, then he wouldn’t be her boyfriend.

Sabrina realized something at that moment. 

“Oh,” she said, smiling cleverly as she plopped down onto her bed. “I know what’s happening. Now that Nick and I are dating, you’re making sure I’m a good fit, since you care about him, obviously. I totally understand. You don’t want him to date just anyone.”

Prudence rolled her eyes. “As if I care who Nick dates.”

“Well, because you love him. I wondered the same about you when I found out Ambrose had taken an interest in you. But he likes you and weirdly enough, you make my cousin very happy, so I don’t have much to say in regard to that.” Even with the recent bump in the road, it was clear that Prudence made Ambrose happy. And she would bet Ambrose made Prudence happy, too. 

“Right,” Prudence said, breezing over Sabrina’s statements about Ambrose. “Regardless of what you might think, I’m more so confused as to why Nick would pick you as his gateway into the world of serious relationships. I came to see what the fuss is about, and frankly, I still don’t get it.”

“Mhm,” Sabrina hummed, not quite buying it.

“Do you know that I’m rather shocked you’ve lived this long? I thought for sure the second you’d left this quaint town for the city you’d get into some sort of trouble and perish a reckless idiot, yet here you are. Still alive, by some miracle.”

Sabrina smiled as Prudence continued.

“And somehow, my brother sees you as a compatible match. I tried to warn him early on. I told him you would probably jump from a plane if you got the chance, and he smiled and said, ‘I know.’” Prudence shivered in disgust. “How unbelievable. He’s a bigger idiot than I thought...”

Sabrina sat up, the smile on her face now a full grin. “Well, here’s what I think—”

Prudence cut in to say, “I believe I never asked.”

“I think you like me,” Sabrina said anyway. 

“I hope you never insult me like that again.”

“For Nick, that is,” Sabrina corrected. Even she wasn’t bold enough to assume Prudence liked her just in general. “Why else would you have let me borrow your jacket?”

“I never said I wanted it back. Consider it a donation.”

Sabrina shrugged and slipped off of her bed onto her bare feet. She grabbed for the nearby chunky heels she’d picked out and balanced against her bed so she could strap them on. “I think you approve of me.”

Prudence didn’t get irritated like Sabrina had expected. She just shrugged and crossed her arms, the neat layering of bracelets around her wrist jingling with the action. “I suppose there is a plus to it. He has someone else to bug now, and life is simpler for me. Even if that means he’s out running through the wilderness like a manic or swimming through that God-awful river...”

“He told you about that?”

Prudence sighed. “I wish he hadn’t.”

There was something about the idea of Nick telling Prudence all about his time spent with Sabrina that made her chest radiate with happiness. It was her existing in the parts of his life where she hadn’t expected to before. In the parts she once thought were off-limits. 

Sabrina straightened up once her shoes were on and faced Prudence. “Prudence, I really like your brother, so I have to admit that even if you didn’t approve, I would still pursue him,” she explained. “But it is nice if we’re on the same page. Maybe we can even be friends.”

Prudence scowled suddenly. “You’re getting too comfortable.”

Sabrina laughed, but it was cut short when Ambrose’s voice boomed through the hallway as he shouted up the stairs.

“Sabrina! If you don’t look any good by now, then I’m sad to say it isn’t going to happen, so hurry up!” 

Prudence rolled her eyes. “Drama king.”

Sabrina snorted and grabbed for the little black crossbody she’d prepared earlier and slung it over her shoulder. They left her room at a leisurely pace, in hopes of further irritating Ambrose. Downstairs, they found him in the parlor with his hands on his hips. Beside him, Nick was on the loveseat whipping around a feather toy for Salem.

“Finally,” Ambrose sighed. “I thought _I_ took forever.”

“You usually do,” Sabrina said. “I’ve seen you spend an hour picking between two shirts.”

“There are my girls,” Nick said when he noticed them, making Prudence roll her eyes. He stood and dropped the feather toy for Salem, much to the cat’s displeasure, to make his way over. Sabrina took him in with a look of admiration. Nick usually dressed nice, but he cleaned up even better. 

She smiled when he lifted her off her feet to kiss her. “You look handsome.”

“Thank you.” His eyes were bright as he took her in. She noticed when his eyes caught briefly on the point where her top dipped over her chest, making her stomach flutter. “Stunning as always, Spellman. Is that Pru’s jacket?”

“Yes,” Sabrina said. “She told me I had to wear it.”

Nick raised a brow at his sister. “Is that so? Prudence never lets anyone borrow her things.”

“It’s from last year’s line,” Prudence said coolly. “Her ‘outfit’ needed it more than I did.”

Ambrose looked offended. “I asked to borrow your scarf once and you didn’t let me.”

Prudence shot him a sharp look. “That’s because you were going to wear my Hermès as a belt. A _belt,_ Ambrose.”

“Excuse me for being innovative, darling.”

Sabrina tugged on Nick’s sleeve. “Should we leave?” 

“We should,” Nick said with a nod, slipping his hand into hers. He looked to Prudence. “Are Dorcas and Agatha coming?” 

“They’re taking a separate car there,” Prudence explained. “Since you brought it up, I feel I should say this now before we get there and all calamity ensues: don’t start an argument in the bar. I have zero desire to be a mediator tonight.”

“I don’t start the arguments, Pru. You know I don’t.”

“Then just keep your distance.”

“For how long, Pru? Is she going to be mad at me forever?”

“It’s not my job to figure that out.”

Nick sighed, following Sabrina when she gave his hand a tug. Prudence and Ambrose were taking another car, so she and Nick headed down the pathway to his. He was quiet the entire way down.

From the passenger seat, Sabrina glanced over at him as he started up the car and she fastened her seatbelt. “The whole thing with Agatha bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“It doesn’t,” Nick answered a little defensively. 

“It’s okay if it does,” Sabrina replied. “She’s your sister and you miss her. I really wish you two would talk.”

He paused backing out the car to meet her gaze. Nick seemed conflicted for a moment. Then, he sighed. “Look, Sabrina...you’re leaving at the end of summer and I really just want to have a good night with you, so let’s forget about the Agatha stuff. Is that cool?”

Sabrina leaned over to kiss him, partly to comfort him, and partly to avoid the sudden and painful reminder that, come fall, she would be leaving Greendale, leaving _him._ “Let’s have a good night,” she told him, then she winked and added, “maybe even get in a little trouble.”

“Mm,” Nick hummed, wagging his brows. “Still a rebel just like I like it.”

  
  


*

  
  


Dorian’s Grey Room was thick with people that evening, lined up elbow to elbow at the bar and crammed into nearly every open space throughout the rest of the lounge. The usual laid-back atmosphere had shifted to favor a scene straight out of a nightclub. The music was loud, drowning out most of the sound that came with a crowd as large as the one present. Sabrina couldn’t help but wonder how many of these people actually lived in Greendale, as there were plenty she didn’t recognize.

“Prudence! Nicky!” someone called from the entrance and Sabrina looked up to see Dorcas beckoning them over. She was hopping in place, her red hair glinting in the warm lighting. Beside her, Agatha stood hand in hand with a girl Sabrina didn’t recognize, greeting only Prudence and keeping her distance from the others. From Nick.

“Hey Dork,” Nick greeted, ruffling Dorcas’ hair. She swatted away his hand.

“Stop, I just had my hair done!”

“Really? Doesn’t look any different to me,” he teased, making her smack his arm. Sabrina caught him looking at Agatha like he wanted to say something to her, too, and she squeezed his hand, offering her support when he didn’t. The air between them felt cold, even if it appeared that Agatha had moved on. It made Sabrina a little sad. She couldn’t imagine not talking to Ambrose for that long.

“Prudence, Dorian saved us a table,” Agatha cut in, seemingly eager to move the party along. She was gone then, going off ahead with her date. Dorcas followed, while Prudence took her time and lagged behind with Ambrose, the two of them taking their time.

“I can’t believe she’s not even talking to you,” Sabrina said. 

They lingered behind the others, Nick shrugging before he dropped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her against his side. 

“I told you not to worry about it,” Nick reminded her lightly. “Want to grab a drink first? Bet you Dorian will let us cut in line.”

“Sure,” she decided, slipping her hand in his back pocket as he led them off. Tonight wouldn’t be the night she bugged Nick about his scarred relationship with his sister, even if she really wanted to.

At the bar, Dorian moved around with the grace of someone who didn’t quite belong on the mortal plane, tossing a martini shaker over his shoulder and catching it effortlessly in his other hand. When he saw them, he smiled and made his way over to meet them on the other side of the bar. Sabrina always thought it was weird that no matter how much time passed, Dorian didn’t seem to look any older. She wondered if he’d somehow sold his soul for eternal youth.

“Ah, the runaways,” Dorian greeted. 

Sabrina blushed, remembering that she hadn’t been in Dorian’s since the night Nick helped her run away from Eric, the many of many words. 

Beside her, Nick leaned against the bar while she slipped onto one of the tall stools. He flashed Dorian a charming smile of his own and said, “Hey, Grey.”

“Haven’t seen you around here much. I was starting to forget what you looked like,” Dorian said, his eyes flicking over to Sabrina next. “I can see that now your attention has been stolen by other matters.” He smiled at Sabrina. "Lovely as ever, Sabrina."

“Thank you, Dorian,” she replied. 

He looked at Nick. “Are you here to keep the coast clear of any other bland men that might appear? This one here has a history.” She was once again reminded of Eric and wondered if everyone in the bar that night had known about how awfully their ‘date’ had gone. Then she considered what he might have meant by ‘history’ and thought of Harvey, the only other guy in her life Dorian had been aware of.

“Hey!” she said, offended.

“Actually, I’m her boyfriend,” Nick said. There was a tinge of pride in his voice that was hard to miss. “One word, no spaces.”

“Booty-call to boyfriend. What an unexpected shift in titles, indeed,” Dorian commented.

Nick genuinely seemed to be in good spirits as he said, “I know!” So much so that Sabrina had to press her lips together to hold back a laugh. 

“Well, love-birds, what will it be this evening? Nicky, a bourbon?”

“Please.”

Sabrina smiled. “I’ll have a Negroni, please.”

“Absolutely.” He nodded once and went off to prepare their drinks.

Sabrina turned to Nick and smiled. It was equal parts sweet and mischievous. “So you really like being my boyfriend, huh?”

On the stool, she sat at eye level with Nick, and she watched a clever glint rise in his eyes. “Let’s just say, if I had to choose between being your boyfriend or keeping my most prized and adored possession, I would begrudgingly be handing over my vintage copy of _Dracula_ this very moment. _”_

Sabrina giggled. “All for me?” 

Nick offered her a wink just as Dorian returned with their drinks. “All for you, babe.”

“Bourbon neat and a Negroni.” Dorian placed down two drinks before them. “Enjoy.”

They took their drinks and Nick slipped an arm around her waist to help her off the stool. Near the back of the bar, the remainder of their group was parked at a table flanked by elegant seating. All except for Agatha, who was currently on the dancefloor with her date, her ink-black hair bobbing up from the crowd every now and then. 

Sabrina settled on a velvet loveseat beside Nick and his arm draped along the back of it, close enough to her that his fingers bumped against her shoulder every now and again. She liked the way he always tried to keep some form of contact going, as though to remind himself that she was there. 

They spent some time there, sipping on their drinks leisurely, Dorcas talking a mile a minute, the speed only increasing with each shot of tequila that she knocked back, until she was basically humming. They tossed some darts at a board nearby, and Sabrina won only because Nick was so awful at it. At one point, Ambrose had started catching all of Nick’s throws and guiding them onto the board, making Sabrina keel over with laughter and Nick to seriously reconsider agreeing to play.

  
  


*

  
  


“Let’s dance,” Sabrina said to Nick after some time. She slung back the last of her Negroni and shimmied out of the jacket Prudence had given her, draping it over the loveseat to retrieve later. Nick’s brows went up as his gaze fell to her shoulders, and she smiled when she caught him staring.

Thoroughly enticed, he said, “Yes ma’am.”

Out on the dance-floor full of people, Nick only saw her, everyone else fading off into the background. It was just the two of them, and he was lost in her. Lost in the way her fingers settled in his hair, and lost in the curve of her red lips as she pulled him closer.

He leaned down to kiss her just as someone shoving their way through the crowd collided with them and their drink went spilling down the front of Nick’s shirt. “Son of a—” Nick grumbled, stepping back as the cold liquid rolled down his chest, while looking for Sabrina to make sure she hadn’t gotten run over. Whoever it was hadn’t cared to stop or offer an apology, and had only grunted in irritation before attempting to push their way through the rest of the crowd.

Until Sabrina decided to step in and called after him, taking charge of the situation.

 _“Excuse_ you,” she said firmly, donning her best hall monitor voice, the one Nick thought he might like if the setting and situation were different. “You need to apologize. Hello! I’m talking to you!”

The person turned and it was Billy Marlin. Sabrina didn’t seem to care who it was. She stepped in front of him, one hand on her hip and the other pointing behind her at Nick. _“Apologize.”_

“For what?” Billy scoffed.

“For bumping into us and spilling your drink all over him,” Sabrina explained, enunciating each word to make sure Billy heard her over the loud music.

“Not my fault you guys were in the way. If anything, _you_ owe _me_ another drink.”

Sabrina’s face went several shades darker. Nick stepped a little closer and dropped a hand on her shoulder. He opened his mouth to tell her it wasn’t worth it, that they could just leave and find somewhere else in the bar to hang out, but she had her eyes set on Billy and she wasn't letting up. “Yeah, I owe you something alright, and it’s not a drink.”

“Fuck off,” Billy said, waving her off like he couldn’t be bothered. “Go back to your shit-head boyfriend.”

“Well, hang on a second now, dick,” Nick cut in, stepping up so that he was shoulder to shoulder with Sabrina. He thought he was killing it as a boyfriend, but that wasn’t what bothered him. It was the tone that Billy had taken with Sabrina. “Watch how you talk to her.”

“Or what? You gonna hit me again?”

He might have, but he settled against it. Nick glared at him for a moment before he looked at Sabrina. “Let’s just go,” he suggested. “Talking to him isn’t worth it, Spellman. There are several layers of dirt before you get to a real brain up there.”

Sabrina seemed to consider it for a second, her expression still tinged with visible anger, like she really wanted to hand Billy’s ass back to him on a shiny silver platter, and as much Nick wanted to let her, he didn’t think it was worth cutting their night short. 

Finally, she sighed and took his hand. They turned to leave when Billy snorted out a laugh and said, “Classic Nick, hiding behind his bitch! I guess she _finally_ put out.”

It took a second for it to register in Nick’s head, but once he was okay with the idea of possibly spending the night in jail, it was easy enough to accept that he might just shove Billy into a wall and be done with it. Again.

Except, he didn’t get the chance to move before he heard a sharp sound pierce the air behind him. He turned and saw the tail end of his girlfriend’s tiny fist pulling away from Billy’s—now pain riddled—face. Right as she started winding up for her second go, Nick pulled her back, his mind suddenly cleansed of the thought of beating Billy’s ass now that he had witnessed Sabrina attempt the same. 

“Okay, let’s maybe stop,” Nick said, stepping in between them, facing Sabrina. It was more of a precaution. He didn’t think Billy would swing back, but if he decided to, Nick wanted to make sure she wasn’t the one on the receiving end of it. 

“Did I get him?” Sabrina asked.

“Yep, you got him, babe.” He winced as Billy clutched his nose. Nick ushered her along a little quicker. “We’re gonna go ahead and go, okay?”

She stretched over Nick’s shoulder when he finally settled on moving her himself, pumping her fists wildly all while trying to get back to Billy. “I’m not through with him, Nick, let me go! I’m going to shove his ass into that glass he dumped all over you! I’ll show him a bitch if that’s what he wants!”

“Excuse us,” Nick said to the quickly forming crowd of people coming to spectate. From the corner of his eye, he saw Billy stagger forward in search of them, but he was cut off by three shadows emerging from the crowd of people,meeting from different directions.

“Billy Marlin,” Prudence greeted, stopping before him with her hands crossed. “What a surprise.”

Billy tried to swerve around her, but Agatha stepped in his way and looked him up and down “And not a pleasant one at all.” 

He spun and Dorcas was there, wearing a pretty grin that was full of ill-intent. “Looks like all the rumors are true...You really did peak in high-school.”

Nick passed a confused Ambrose on his way and just said, “Outside. Go.”

“What in the absolute hell is going on,” Ambrose questioned when they finally spilled out onto the sidewalk, looking at Sabrina, who had stopped trying to weasel out of Nick’s arms and had calmed down exponentially. She was wearing a pleasant smile now, as though the action of knocking Billy’s tongue back into his mouth had been a cathartic one.

“In an ironic turn of events, Sabrina punched Billy in the face,” Nick explained. That made two of them now, he realized, a little club of their own. “Frankly, I’m not even sure how she reached his face.”

“I jumped,” Sabrina said, sounding much more pleased by the idea than she probably should have. 

“She jumped,” Ambrose repeated, smirking. He held up his palm and Sabrina used her free hand to enthusiastically high-five him. “Girl power. You threw a hook like I showed you?” 

Sabrina nodded eagerly. “I did!”

Ambrose smiled. “Knew I didn’t have to worry about you.” He glanced back at the bar’s entrance. “And where’s Marlin now?” While he was still fairly calm, Nick could pinpoint the hint of protectiveness that went up at the possibility of Billy coming in search of his cousin. 

“He’s currently facing judgment,” Nick said.

Ambrose raised a brow. “The sisters?” 

Nick nodded solemnly.

“What started all of this, if I may ask?” Ambrose asked, glancing between them.

“He ran into us, spilled his drink all over Nick, and when I asked him to apologize, he refused! Then he called me a bitch, and said something about me putting out, so I put him out.” She looked angry all over again. Turning on her heel, she tried to dive back into the bar, saying, “I should go do it again.”

“Ah-ah!” Ambrose caught her as she swung back around for the bar. “You’re still high on adrenaline, and we shouldn’t push it. He got what he deserved, and he’s going to go home tonight seriously self conscious over what he’s wearing thanks to Nick’s wonderful siblings, and all will be well.”

“Let’s hope,” Nick said, turning to face Sabrina and taking her still balled up his fist into his. “Let me see your hand, Spellman.”

She let Nick take her hand to examine, and aside from where her knuckle had split slightly from the force of her punch, she seemed fine. He pressed a kiss against it.

“Alright,” Nick said. “How about I run and grab the getaway car?”

Sabrina nodded. “Please. That really wore me out.”

He pecked her forehead as he reached for his keys. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” 

“Wait until aunt Zelda hears about this,” Ambrose started to say as Nick walked off.

“If you tell aunt Zelda about this I’m going to tell her about the time you scratched her car and covered it with a sharpie marker.” Sabrina threatened back.

“You tell her about that, I’m going to tell her about that antique vase that you broke and hid in the cellar. The one she got from nana Priscilla before she passed away.”

Nick didn’t stick around long enough to see how that ended.

  
  


*

  
  


In Nick’s car several minutes later, Sabrina settled comfortably in the passenger side, once again wearing the jacket Prudence had given her, thanks to Ambrose, who had gone and fished it out of the bar.

“I get why you hit him now,” Sabrina said, full of new outlook. “Violence is sometimes the answer.”

“You are so hot,” Nick commented right before they pulled, looking at her in complete adoration. He seemed to catch himself, then, correcting, “Right. I meant to say you are so _right.”_

“I can be both,” she replied.

“You sure can.”

Sabrina laughed, and Nick did, too. They rode through the darkened streets, wind blowing her hair back through the open window, the air smelling like home, and Sabrina just knew. She knew she was happy. Right there, in that very moment, nothing could touch her, not even the stinging in her knuckle, or the looming thought that she would have to give this up all over again. 

When they got back to his apartment, she sat on the kitchen counter while he cleaned up her hand and put a bandaid on her busted knuckle. Then, they sank into his bed and he kissed her until she saw the stars come through his ceiling, little pinpricks of light blinding her into sweet oblivion. In the end, they were both sated to the point of exhaustion. 

Nick was on his side, holding her against him as he began to doze off. She traced her fingers along his arm, over the vein that ran up it, again and again. Staring at his wall, she thought about how summer had started one strictly planned way and had gone in the direction of entirely unexpected mishaps and sweet findings. And how she loved every bit of it.

“Hey, Nick,” Sabrina found herself saying. He stirred against her, catching himself right before he fell asleep. “Thanks for being my partner in crime tonight.”

“Always,” he murmured, and then, in that hushed, wondrous voice of his, Nick said, “I love you, Sabrina.” His face was pressed against her neck, and as he spoke his confession, she felt every single word of it. Not just on her skin, but further even. In her veins. In her bones. In the very cells that wove her together and made her the woman that he _loved._

Nick said it like it was simple. Like loving her was not a burden, or a challenge, at all, but instead, something as easy and undemanding as falling asleep.

And oh, did it hurt.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you'd like to, please feel free to leave feedback! Love you guys!


	25. there's magic in our bones

*

  
  


When Sabrina woke up the next morning, the breeze through the window left open in Nick’s bedroom was soft, a wisp of cool mountain air to break through the summer warmth that had settled over Greendale the previous few days. It sighed as it danced through the tree beside his apartment.

She turned over eagerly, cradled in the sheets that smelled like Nick, and found him still blissfully asleep. Sunlight poured in through the shifting slant in the curtains, its touch tender like the stroke of a lover as it trailed down the sinews of his back. Sabrina reached out to touch him, admiring the way the sun seemed to illuminate him. Perhaps it adored him just as much as she did. Perhaps it craved to be worshiped the way she had been the night before.

Sabrina sat up and set her lips to work in place of her fingers, pressing along the length of his neck. She wanted to shout: _Wake up, idiot, you love me and I want to hear you say it over and over until it doesn’t scare me anymore,_ but she didn’t. Instead, she whispered his name against the sun-warmed skin of his shoulder and was surprised to hear the love in her own voice, the twist of her heart in her chest, and the tinge of fear that joined it. 

This could only last for so long.

“Mm,” he moaned.

“Wake up,” Sabrina requested, and when that didn’t work, she shook him with a little more force. “Nick.”

His voice was groggy, not fully awake as he spoke directly into the pillow. “I’m not Nick, I’m asleep.”

“An asshole is what you are,” she told him with a sigh.

“If I were an asshole, would I be able to do this?” Nick asked just before he dragged the covers over his head and promptly fell back asleep, leaving Sabrina to look on in sheer disbelief, both at his audacity and ability to fall into another slumber so quickly.

She shook her head after a few seconds and moved to slide out of bed, deciding if she was going to deal with waking Nick up, she would need a solid dose of caffeine first. 

She found a shirt of his left tossed over a nearby chair and slipped it on. The garment swallowed her smaller frame, but it was comfortable, and it left her feeling warm. Then she grabbed for the panties that were comically thrown over his lampshade and stepped into them before exiting for the bathroom. There, she rinsed off the remainder of the make-up she had forgotten the previous night and fought away the urge to be nosy and look through the things he had. Ambrose had often warned her about the state of a man’s bathroom, and what the things he had in shower said about him.

_Three-in-one anything is a red-flag,_ he had once told her, _if you see that, you run._

She crept down Nick’s hallway next, finding the tiny corner kitchen easily since his apartment wasn’t very big at all. It didn’t seem like he spent much time there, and it was tidy enough, allowing her to spot the monstrosity sitting on the counter with ease. She frowned. Being raised partway in a coffee-shop had given her a sense of pride when it came to the topic of coffee and its various brewing methods. She had studied hard to earn her law degree, but she could still rattle off the temperatures for the various brewing methods without much thought, could read all of the subtle notes in a cup and nail them the first try. When Theo called her a coffee snob, it was an understatement.

So when Sabrina caught sight of the beat up Mr. Coffee machine on his counter, it wasn’t a surprise that she nearly had a heart attack and had to dial for Ambrose, the _other_ coffee snob.

“I need a favor,” she said into the phone once he picked up. 

“Good morning to you, too,” he huffed back. “You knock some brains around and spend the night over at Nick’s and suddenly you’re a new person.”

“Haha.” Sabrina rolled her eyes. “If I send you Nick’s address, will you stop by before your shift and drop off my french press and some coffee?” She figured he had to have some coffee lying around if he had a machine, but she was willing to bet it was a canister of Folgers. He probably didn’t even measure it. He probably just dumped it in and hoped for the best. Oh yeah, and he loved her.

“Yikes,” Ambrose said. “What are we working with?”

Sabrina peeked around the corner as though worried Nick would suddenly appear. He was still in his room, oblivious. She ducked back around, holding the phone close to her face, hand over the speaker. “A freaking Mr. Coffee, Ambrose!”

She could practically feel Ambrose cringe on the other end. “Drip coffee. An American classic. Though disgusting _can_ still be saved. It’s not instant coffee. Luke drank instant and look where that got him.”

“As your ex, egging your house,” Sabrina said. 

“Precisely.” There was shuffling as Ambrose gathered his things. “I’m texting Hilda so she can grind a fresh batch. I’ll pick it up and swing by.” Then he paused, before very seriously saying, “Don’t worry, I’m going to save your relationship.”

Sabrina couldn’t help when she laughed into the phone. “Thank you, Ambrose. I’ll see you in a bit.”

It didn’t take very long before she was swinging open the door to reveal her cousin. Already, the scent of freshly ground coffee had begun to fill the air around her, radiating off the bag in his hand. She sighed in relief. “You’re a lifesaver.”

He looked her up and down. “And you look tore up from the floor up, cousin.”

Sabrina narrowed her eyes at him, well aware that her appearance wasn’t exactly the most alluring thing at that very moment. Her hair was still somewhat of a mess, and she was pretty sure the shirt she’d picked up off Nick’s chair had a questionable stain on the chest, but she didn’t actually need to be reminded of that. She snatched the bag from his hand and said, “Thanks for the play by play, I hadn’t realized.”

Ignoring her tone, he went on to ask, “Did Nick hit you with a truck, or is it really that good?”

“I’m shutting the door in your face now, goodbye!” Sabrina said quickly. “Thanks for the coffee!” She heard him laugh right before the door clicked back into place and she stood in silence again. 

She wandered back into the kitchen and took out the french press and the small bag of freshly ground coffee. After boiling some water, she set it to brew and wandered off down the hallway again, hoping that Nick had had enough sleep by then because she wasn’t waiting any longer. She pushed open the door to his bedroom and found him in the exact position she’d left him, the covers still drawn over his head.

“Nick?”

He stirred slightly under the blanket. “Oh, dear God, Prudence?”

One of her brows went up. “Why would I be Prudence?”

Nick moved, turning in the bed so that he was squinting at her. His expression went from irritated to relieved once he saw it was her. “Oh, it’s you. Hi, beautiful, I thought you were my evil sister. Come back to bed?” He lifted the blanket so she could join him again, but Sabrina shook her head.

“It’s after nine.”

“Suit yourself,” he answered, rolling back over onto his stomach. Calmly, she made her way over to his side of the bed.

“Get up,” Sabrina said right before she slapped his ass through the covers. Nick’s head shot up from the pillow, suddenly more awake than he had been the entire morning. 

“Kinky,” he purred. “Do that again and see what happens.”

_“Nick.”_

Nick groaned and moved to sit up. “Okay, fight club, I’m getting up.” When he pulled back the covers, Sabrina remembered he was entirely bare underneath and couldn't help it when her eyes wandered, catching on all of the spots she’d left behind—a patch of red along the length of his neck where her lipstick had smeared, the hint of a bite near the left side of his chest. All ghosts of her, meant to live on in her absence. 

Nick caught her staring and winked. “Like what you see, Spellman?”

Sabrina huffed and ignored him, reminded instead of their night at Dorian’s. Perhaps she had gone a little overboard punching Billy, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. “I did that in your honor.” She paused, shooting him a pointed look when he grinned. “Well, and mine.”

“My absolute hero,” Nick said, his smirk shifting into a lopsided grin. He reached out to touch her waist and draw her closer so that she was standing between his legs, her hands falling onto his shoulders. His voice sounded cheeky when he asked, “Where’d you get the shirt?”

Sabrina shrugged, smiling. “I found it.” She leaned down to kiss him as his hands wandered up her sides and he pulled her closer, still trying to get her back into the bed. “Nope,” Sabrina said again, giving his lip a little nip to warn him. He groaned and followed her mouth when she pulled away, hands tugging at his to get him to stand up. “As delicious as you look, I started some coffee and really want to have some.”

“Second to coffee,” Nick grumbled. “Brutal.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes and smacked his butt again, sending him off toward the bathroom. 

“Babe,” Nick grunted. _“Seriously.”_

She sent a wink in his direction before she left for the kitchen. Nick arrived sometime later, dressed in a pair of sweatpants, forgoing a shirt. He hung over her shoulder as she pressed down the plunger on the french press, already having located two mugs in his cupboards. 

“What is that?” he asked.

“It’s a french press,” she explained. “I had Ambrose bring it by. I’m sorry, but your coffee maker is atrocious.”

“Looks like a torture device,” Nick said, turning to rummage through his fridge. He returned with cream and a little tin of sugar, much to her surprise. She knew he didn’t take his coffee with either, which meant he’d likely picked it up for her. Warmth flooded her again and she spun to look at him, leaning back against the counter. “Want some toast?” Nick asked, once again before the fridge. “I have five different jars of jam thanks to Amalia’s newest farmer’s market obsession. I’ve got—” he touched each jar as he read them out, squinting. “—raspberry, strawberry, blueberry mint, peach, and…something called mango-tango? Kind of sounds like a flavored condom, if you ask me.”

Sabrina snorted as she pulled herself up to sit on his counter, coffee mug in her lap. “Peach,” she answered, watching his back as he nodded and stuck two pieces of toast into the tiny toaster in the corner of his counter. Something stirred in her chest. She loved this view. No, not the view, _him_. “Nick?”

Here it went, she thought. In his kitchen on a Saturday morning, with the sliver of light from his open refrigerator like a spotlight, she would ask him if loved her. If he meant it. If they had a chance, she would find out.

His back was still to her as he hummed, an indication that he’d heard her. 

“Look at me, please?” she asked.

He turned, the tip of his thumb in his mouth as he licked off the remnants of peach jam from it. “Yes, Spellman?”

“What if I told you that you said you loved me last night before you fell asleep,” Sabrina said, and the fear started to blossom within her again like a spring rose, unfurling, thorns jutting painfully into her heart, but she didn’t let it show. She was his fearless girl, after all.

“I did?” Nick asked and her heart plummeted, rose thorns and all, into one jumbled mess in the pit of her stomach. He didn’t remember it.

She exhaled, a jarring sound that dragged concern across Nick’s face, and said, “What if I told you that it scared me so, so much. What if I’m terrified, Nick, I _am_ terrified…”

Nick was in front of her somehow, suddenly, his hand on her cheek, thumb stroking, as though nothing else in the world mattered to him, as though everything could go up in smoke and his only concern would be her. “Hang on,” Nick said, “What are you terrified of?”

Her words rattled out of her. “That summer will end and so will we. Again.”

The way Nick looked at her—Sabrina could only describe it as precious. Gentle. So devastatingly in love it made her question how she could have ever doubted it. His voice was soft but certain as he said, “Then, what if in return, I told you that you have nothing to be afraid of? That I’ll love you when you’re here in Greendale and when you aren’t? That no amount of distance, small or great, could ever make me want you any less?” 

Sabrina shook, and it was then that she realized Nick was wiping away her tears. “I would say that I love you, too.”

“So say it,” Nick requested, his tone hushed, eyes looking into hers.

“I love you, Nick.”

It felt nice to say. It felt even nicer to watch the joy bloom across his face, to know that it was her who put it there. 

“I love you,” Nick said back. His smile hung crooked like a crescent moon. She saw it for a split second before he was burying his face into the crook of her neck, his kisses tickling her until all of her fear was replaced with joy and she started to giggle. “I love you so fucking much.”

Sabrina’s voice was lost in a flurry of laughter, arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders, fingers clinging in his midnight hair. “I love you so fucking much, too.” She tugged him back so that she could kiss him properly, tasting the peach jam on his lips, sinking against him when he slid her off of the counter and onto her feet.

Nick took his coffee in one hand, and her waist in the other. “You know,” he said. “I could do this for a long time.”

Her cheeks hurt from smiling. She asked, “Do what?”

Nick’s eyes were bright. “You and I,” he said so certainly it made her heart ache.

Sabrina took his face in her hands, him leaning into the touch, and kissed him once. Twice. She lost count. She only knew that she loved this man, right down to the bone. 

Eventually, he turned to gather the now cold toast, mumbling something about making it again, when his phone pinged on the counter. 

“It’s Amalia,” Sabrina said, only briefly glancing at the phone in an attempt to not intrude, even though Nick didn’t seem to care. “She sent something to your family chat.”

“Read it out to me?” Nick asked, sticking the butter knife he’d used to spread the jam in his mouth when he thought she wasn’t looking. She just shook her head and went on to read the message out to him.

“She says, ‘dinner at seven at the house. Everyone show up please.’”

“Great,” Nick grumbled. “That means Agatha will be there, too.” He turned to look at her, leaning back against the counter. “Will you come? I have some things to do at the shop later, but we could meet at the house?”

“I don’t know, Nick. I’d love to…but maybe she really just wants you and Agatha to sort things out without any outside interference.”

He shook his head. “Amalia’s tried. It doesn’t work and we end up trying to kill each other. She said it’ll take one of us dying for the other to regret it, so at this point, I think she’s placing bets with Dorcas and Prudence over which one of us will make it out alive.” He waved the butter knife as though shifting the subject. “Anyway, Amalia will probably ask why I didn’t bring you, so you should come if only to keep her from talking my head off.”

Sabrina nodded. “Alright. Well, in that case, I’ll be there. Maybe I’ll stop by the cafe and bring dessert.”

Nick grinned. “Bring the—”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “I’ll bring the danishes. Now come here, you’ve got jam on your mouth."

  
  


*

  
  


Sabrina ended up in the cafe later, carefully nestling an assortment of desserts into a yellow box, making sure she included a few extra cherry danishes. Behind her, Ambrose moved about, clipboard in hand as he took an inventory count for their weekly supply order.

“Old Scratch, in love,” Ambrose observed, scribbling something down on his clipboard as he spoke. “I can’t believe it took him telling you for you to realize it.”

“Oh, please, Ambrose,” Sabrina said, ducking her head so that he couldn’t tease her about the smile she was wearing.

“I’ve read and dissected, even written enough poetry in my life, to know the look of love in a man’s eye,” her cousin drawled. Ambrose loved to bring up his literature degree whenever it suited his point of view, mostly because he was a romantic at heart. “And Nicholas Scratch had that glint long before _you_ ever noticed it.”

Sabrina thought about how she hadn’t noticed it before, and how now when she knew Nick loved her, she could suddenly see it in everything he did. Maybe it was because she had been afraid before, or maybe it was because she had been so caught up in it, she hadn’t stopped to think about what it meant. 

But she did see it in other places. She saw it where her cousin couldn’t. Even in the dark atmosphere at Dorian’s, she’d seen the way Prudence had smiled at Ambrose when he hadn’t been looking. When he’d been too preoccupied with goofing off around the dartboard to notice, someone had noticed him. 

Prudence looked at Ambrose the same way Nick looked at Sabrina.

“I think Prudence loves you,” Sabrina said, shutting the box of pastries and plopping a sunflower sticker on it to seal it.

“I think a certain dark-haired bookstore clerk has clouded your mind,” Ambrose said, but he still tugged her into his side and planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek, which made Sabrina squeal and push at him. She spun out of his reach and picked up her box on the way, winking at him as she did. 

“Maybe parts of him have,” she replied.

Ambrose pretended to gasp dramatically. “Sabrina Diana Spellman, you watch that foul mouth.”

She stuck out her tongue as she neared the door, turning so that her back was against it. “We’re still on for 90 Day Fiancé tonight, right?”

“Absolutely.” He raised a hand in farewell, the curve of his smile as warm as the sun. “Tell Nick and all of his parts that I said ‘hi’”

Sabrina shook her head in disbelief as she slipped out of the cafe and started down the sidewalk in the direction of Amalia’s. It wasn’t a long walk at all, given that her suburb was right outside of Greendale’s downtown area, and only a few blocks away from Main Street. She came across the house with cornflower blue siding before she knew it.

At the door, she knocked quietly. No one came, but she saw the light on inside, and Nick’s car was parked in the driveway, so she tried the knob, knowing that Amalia would tell her to just come right in if she knew Sabrina was outside. It was unlocked.

Inside, the house smelled like Chinese takeout. Part of her was glad Amalia had skipped out on cooking that night, if only for the sake of everyone’s safety.

“Amalia?” she called quietly. “Nick?”

Neither of them answered, but she heard voices and followed them down the hallway and into the dining room. Several feet from the doorway, she realized it was the sound of arguing, and Nick’s voice was the most prominent. Something in her told her she should probably turn around, but the nosy part of her continued on, thinking it was likely just Nick bickering with Agatha.

When she entered the dining room, she saw Amalia seated at the table, her head in her hands, hair a mess. She looked tired when she finally looked up. Prudence was at her side, her face blank, while Dorcas stood crumpled up against Nick’s side, her eyes puffy and as red as her hair. They all quieted when she entered, Agatha snapping her head back, face shifting into a glare when she noticed Sabrina.

“Great. Who the Hell asked _her_ to come?” 

“Go fucking choke on a dick, Agatha,” Nick snapped.

“Can’t. It’s already in _your_ mouth,” Agatha shot back. Dorcas cried harder, and Nick only stopped glaring at Agatha to rub at her shoulder.

“Hi, Sabrina,” Amalia said, and judging by her tone, she sounded exhausted. Sabrina glanced around, her confusion only growing. The atmosphere in the dining room told her this wasn’t just a small family argument or bickering between siblings. It was something more. Something that made the air in the room a thousand times heavier.

“Sorry, I can leave…” Sabrina began, awkwardly shifting so that she could set the box of pastries down on the table. Prudence didn’t say a word, didn’t even make eye contact, her gaze somewhere far off. Meanwhile, Nick looked ready to explode, his eyes on the ground, simmering. He was hurting. She wanted to go to him, but she couldn’t quite move.

“It’s alright,” Amalia said. “I wanted to hold a family meeting, but Nick didn’t know…I didn’t exactly say that either, I guess, but it’s alright. We were just discussing some things, that’s all.”

She heard Nick scoff, and when she looked at him, he wouldn't meet her gaze.

“‘That’s all,’” he quoted. “Fucking Hell, Amalia…”

Sabrina couldn’t help it when she asked, “What is going on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SORRY. I couldn't include it all because it'd be a monster of a chapter so I'M SORRY.
> 
> If you want, you can let me know what you thought in the comments--I cherish every single one of you! Thank you!!


	26. sneak in the windowpanes, you call my name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I want to say a few things before we things progress. I know a lot of you already guessed this was coming because I did drop some hints here and there, but at the same time, I still do want to leave a warning for the chapters to come. But first, I'd like to say, that you might've also noticed I haven't really given Amalia's illness much detail outside of tjust stating that she's ill, and that's because I don't want for it to hit to close to home for anyone. I think it's enough for story purposes just to say that she is sick and leave it at that, without going into any of the gruesome details that might come along with it. With that in mind, things will NOT get graphic in terms of health, and I'm not going to dip into the medical side at all in the coming chapters. I only want to focus on the characters' emotional journeys when it comes to this particular arc. 
> 
> However, if this sort of thing still bothers you, please don't feel bad about skipping! I'll make a post on my tumblr about when it's safe to read again if you're only here for the kinder/fluffier aspects of this fic. I want to pull at emotions, but I don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable reading my work, and I always want to keep you guys aware of things that may be triggering.
> 
> **So: Warnings ahead for mentions of illness, as well as abuse of alcohol.**

*

Time stood still in the dining room inside the little blue home. Silence hung in the air, weighed down with uncertainty and hesitance, cold, despite the summer evening. Sabrina’s eyes drifted over the room and finally settled on Amalia, who seemed to be working over her words in her head, softening them the way people did when they didn’t want to hurt feelings. 

Nick’s face said the opposite. His demeanor was sharp, glinting like the edge of a knife held in self defense. He said, “Amalia is giving up. That’s what’s going on.”

Sabrina felt confusion well up in her, but before she could say anything, could inquire further, Agatha beat her to it, snapping like a rubber band at her brother, her voice coming out like a lash. “That’s not what she’s doing, _Nick.”_

“I don’t understand,” Sabrina said. What could Amalia be giving up that could cause a scene like the one she was witnessing. The expression on Amalia’s face began to shift, and Sabrina thought she was starting to understand why Prudence hadn’t said a word at all, why she sat still staring into the same blank space she had been when Sabrina had first walked in, why Nick was so defensive, and why Dorcas was falling apart at his side.

“Well,” Amalia said, threading her fingers together. “I’ve made the decision to end my treatment.”

The room stirred painfully at the mention, the siblings visibly flinching. Dorcas shook even harder against Nick, face buried in his shirt. Sabrina’s heart dropped, but she was still confused, still lost, eyebrows knitting together as she tried to sort it out. Nick had never been open about Amalia’s medical history, and Sabrina had tried her best not to intrude by prodding where she knew it would hurt, so she wasn’t entirely aware of everything that went on behind the scenes.

“Amalia—” Nick started up again, his voice like an arrow stopped midair when Amalia’s hand rose to cut him off.

“Nicholas,” she began, “We’ve discussed this. Dr. Loey has been watching me very closely, and she’s declared that it isn’t helping anymore. It’s barely been keeping things at bay— _barely—_ and now it isn’t doing a thing _._ It’s a hard decision, but it doesn’t make sense for me to continue.”

“So we’ll look into other things,” Nick suggested. “Amalia, I’m sure there are things that we haven’t even considered, facilities we haven’t scoped out. Greendale isn’t exactly top-notch when it comes to medicine. The city has much better doctors and—”

“No,” Amalia cut him off once more. “This is my home. I’m not leaving it to live in some strange place. Besides, I’m not—”

“If it’s the money you’re concerned about, Amalia, then you don’t have to worry about that at all. I promise. We’ll go and we’ll look at our options and you won’t have to worry about anything.” There was so much desperate hope in Nick’s voice that it made Sabrina’s heart ache.

“You’re not listening,” Amalia snapped, and it made Sabrina shiver, having never heard her raise her voice before. She wasn’t exactly soft spoken, but she was always calm, at least from what Sabrina had seen. “I’m not draining your inheritance, for one thing.” She exhaled, and then her voice softened a touch as she tapped her fingers along the worn wood of the table, the one that had seen its fair share of family dinners, no matter how disastrous or inedible. “Listen, sweetheart, you have to understand that we have gone through everything and anything that made sense. Every time I go in for another test, another dose of something, I’m recovering from it for days. I somehow end up feeling sicker, and what for when I know it isn’t helping me anymore? I don’t want to wear my body down anymore, Nicholas, I’m _tired.”_

Dorcas untangled herself from Nick to go sit beside Amalia, rubbing at her red eyes as she rested her head on her shoulder and Amalia began to stroke her hair.

“I want to feel like myself for however long….” Amalia’s voice trailed off. “For as long as I can,” she corrected.

Sabrina was afraid of what that meant, afraid not only for Amalia, but for Nick, who had given up far more than he should have by now. And for Prudence, and Dorcas, and Agatha—all of whom were in it with him.

It was Nick who snapped that time, after several beats of charged silence, he asked, “What are _we_ supposed to do?” Amalia didn’t answer the question, and he went on, slamming his palm down on the door frame where Sabrina had noticed the etching of their heights several days ago, little bits of them left as an imprint on the home. “Who is supposed to live in this house with our names all over it? There isn’t anyone who could take it and know what to do with it, Amalia. Who—” Nick’s voice went low, strained at the edges, “—Who are we supposed to come home to?”

Amalia pressed her lips together and Sabrina saw the shimmer of unshed tears in the corners of her eyes. 

Nick was worn raw when he gave his one final shot, begging, “Amalia, _please.”_

“You aren’t even listening to her,” Agatha cut in, sounding frustrated. Unlike Nick’s desperation, Agatha was full of anger, and all of her fire had to be directed somewhere, so it went for him. “This isn’t about you. Can you for once in your life accept that!”

“Can you for once in _your_ life care?” Nick asked. “Can you, Agatha? Is that even possible for you?”

Agatha’s shoulders tensed, hiking up the way Salem’s back did when he was unhappy. _“Fuck you,”_ she sneered, “Fuck. You.” Nick stuck his middle finger up in response, and she shoved him back hard enough that he stumbled.

“That’s enough,” Amalia interjected, sitting up in her chair, Dorcas’ head lolling off her shoulder. “You don’t shove your brother. Do you understand me?”

“Why?” Agatha mocked. “Nick _likes_ being shoved and pushed around—God knows he asks for it half of the time.”

Nick’s jaw went rigid, and within the mix of emotions Sabrina knew had to be raging inside of him, anger became the most prevalent, shining painfully brighter than the others. With a sharp edge to his voice, he said, “At least I’m not a bitch.”

Agatha didn’t waste any time firing back. “You are for Sabrina. Hell, you are for anyone who shows you any sort of affection, aren’t you?”

Nick’s eyes lingered on Agatha for several seconds, shrouded in anger and disbelief and a hint of what Sabrina thought looked like betrayal. He turned to leave without another word, disappearing into the hallway like he hadn’t been there at all. Sabrina gave one glance to the others—to Amalia, who sat back down and dropped her face into her hands, and to Prudence, who had one hand on Amalia’s shoulder, the vacant look still plastered over her face—before she trailed him through the home.

It was outside on the porch that she finally caught up to him, grabbing for his arm out of instinct. She was surprised when Nick snatched it away, stumbling down the steps and out of her reach like he wanted nothing to do with it, like he wished he could vanish.

“Don’t,” he said.

“Nick—” she tried, pleaded. If her heart hurt this much, she couldn’t imagine how he must have felt. She wanted, desperately, to take him in her arms, to tell him that everything was going to be okay even if she wasn’t sure about that, but he was already drawing away, laying his arms at his sides so that she wouldn’t reach for him again, plotting his escape.

“Don’t,” Nick repeated, “I want to be by myself.” And then he turned and got into his car. She wasn’t sure if he even heard her when she shouted for him to call her so that she would know he got home safe and alright, she wasn’t sure if he even saw her at all once he was inside. The only thought on his mind was leaving, headlights fading off with the last bit of daylight as he did just that.

Sabrina stood outside long after he was gone, wishing the night would swallow her whole, wishing that it would spit her back out to that morning, in Nick’s kitchen, where everything had seemed so right and so good.

*

By the time Sabrina made it home that evening, having walked back from Amalia’s because she hadn’t even thought to call Ambrose or her aunt or anyone else for a ride—that meant explanations, and she wasn’t sure she’d know fully what to say—the moon was as skinny as an indent of a fingernail in the sky, barely there. She was so out of it, she accidentally walked into the blackberry bushes lining the Spellman property gate and scraped up her legs.

Ambrose was waiting for her in the living room, parked on their favorite sofa, the one they refused to let Zelda toss out because it fit the two of them perfectly, with the remote in his hand. He looked up when she entered, and his face was bright. “There you are,” he chirped. “I was about to start without you. Popcorn’s ready.” He brandished the bowl of golden kernels speckled with M&Ms—their go-to TV snack. “And we’re out of rum so it’ll be Jack and coke tonight.”

Sabrina plopped down on the couch with a sigh. Ambrose sat up.

“Sorry, cousin, we can head to the store if it’s a big deal? Jimmy’s is still open another hour.”

“It’s not that,” Sabrina replied, shifting her legs up so they were draped over his lap. Ambrose absentmindedly started to undo her strappy sandals, dropping them onto the floor afterward. “I’m just exhausted.”

“Well, what’s wrong?” he pressed. “Did you and Nick wear each other out? First fight as a couple?”

“No.” Sabrina fell back against the cushion and shut her eyes for a moment. “That dinner I was supposed to go to at Amalia’s? Yeah, apparently it was actually a family meeting that I intruded in on. She was right in the middle of spilling some important news and I just...crashed it.”

“What sort of news?” her cousin pondered, tossing the remote aside. “Good or bad?”

“Bad. Awful, actually.” She sighed again, sitting up, and Ambrose moved the blanket he’d had draped over his shoulders so that it covered both of them. Sabrina melded herself to his side in a fashion similar to the way Dorcas had been clinging to Nick earlier. “Amalia decided to stop her treatment, and, well...I don’t know. I’m not sure what to say. I’m terrified for her.”

When Sabrina looked up, Ambrose’s face had fallen. She didn’t know how well he knew Amalia, but judging how close he’d gotten to Prudence while Sabrina had been away, it was safe to say they’d run into each other. Plus, Amalia had mentioned meeting Ambrose, and even liking him. “What? Seriously?”

“Yeah,” was all Sabrina said.

Ambrose was quiet for a moment, contemplating. “How...How did Nick take it?” They both knew how close he was to Amalia.

“Not well,” Sabrina answered with a wince, remembering the way things had played out in the dining room, the hurt that had hung over Nick—over all of the siblings—like a looming gray cloud. “He’s heartbroken...Couldn’t accept it. It doesn’t help that he and Agatha fought right after.”

Ambrose stroked her hair the way he had when she was young. Zelda chastised Hilda often, claiming that she had raised Ambrose to be too ‘soft’, but Sabrina loved that she could go to her cousin and be comforted without question, loved that, as much as they teased and prodded each other, they loved one another just as fiercely. “They’ve been at each other for months,” he said, “Prudence claims that Nick used to be Agatha’s closest confidant, but I’m not so sure about that anymore.” He paused. “Where is he now?”

“I don’t know,” Sabrina answered and felt her stomach sink, felt the worry seep in all over again. When Nick had gotten into his car, he hadn’t looked like himself. She didn’t blame him, of course, after receiving the news that he did, but it did concern her. “He wanted to be alone,” she explained. “Which makes sense for him, and I think he ended up back at his apartment, but he didn’t say. I asked him to call me, but I’m not even sure he heard me, to be honest.” From the corner of her eye, she glanced at her phone and saw it vacant of any notifications from Nick. 

Ambrose pulled her closer and they sat like that for a few more minutes, anchoring one another as though something had threatened to pull them apart. 

Eventually, Ambrose asked, his voice ever so soft, “And Prudence, how is she?”

“She didn’t say a word,” Sabrina said. “I think she was in shock. I’ve never seen Prudence look lost, but that’s exactly what she looked like then.” There was always something put-together about Prudence, something meticulous and practiced, something Sabrina had always envied even if she could never admit it. That had gone from Prudence that evening.

Ambrose looked hurt at that. She knew it pained him to think of Prudence in despair. 

“I think I’ll call and check on her,” Ambrose decided.

Sabrina nodded. “You should.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair and stood, phone in hand, before he disappeared into the hallway and left her by herself. She didn’t know what to do, switching between staring at the reality TV that was still paused on the screen, and checking her phone, her hope dwindling each time she saw that Nick hadn’t called. 

It took everything in her not to leave and look for him, to knock down his door and wedge herself in between the pain and him, to protect him as she could, even if it wasn’t with much. But she knew Nick, she knew him well enough now that she understood how fragile he was down deep, and how hard it was for him to lay himself bare and accept her—often overbearing—comfort. She had to be patient with him.

Sabrina didn’t know how long she had sat there, her mind racing and yet going nowhere. For a moment, she thought she might have fallen asleep, but a quick check of the clock told her that, in reality, not much time had passed. Ambrose finally returned, looking grimmer, and she moved so that he could sit beside her on the couch again.

“How is she?” Sabrina asked.

Ambrose shook his head. “She isn’t very talkative at the moment, for obvious reasons.”

Sabrina nodded, dragging one of the cushions into her lap for comfort as Ambrose continued.

Her cousin offered her a line of hope, saying, “But, she thinks she knows where Nick might be.”

*

Sabrina found herself before Dorian’s, exhaling a steady breath as she hovered her hand over the door. It hurt to remember that just the night before, they had all been there, happy, sipping on expensive drinks while they laughed at Ambrose’s dumb jokes, unknowing that tonight, she wasn’t sure what state she would find Nick inside.

The lounge was nearly empty, which was not at all odd given that it was a Sunday night, and it should have made it easier to pick out Nick’s head of dark hair among the scattered guests, but it didn’t. By the time she made it to the bar where Dorian was, she had already scanned most of the lounge and found him nowhere in sight.

“Where is he?” she asked as soon as she hit the counter, which ended up being a lot harder than she had intended. Sabrina hadn’t even noticed how fast she had been walking until there was suddenly something there to stop her.

“Good evening to you, as well,” Dorian said, turning to face her as he continued polishing a glass. He held it up against the light to check for blemishes while she frowned on the other end.

“Evening,” Sabrina replied quickly and left it at that—no need to add what she didn’t mean, before she went on to say, “I know that Nick’s here, somewhere, so if you could point me in his direction, I’d really appreciate it.”

Dorian glanced up, suddenly surprised as his eyes wandered down the line of stools against the bar counter and came up short of the man in question. “Well, I assure you, he _was_ right there. He must’ve left. I cut him off once I realized he was ready to drink himself and into an early grave. I do have some semblance of a heart left.” He looked back at Sabrina. “Have you tried calling him?” 

“I have.” Several times. Each time it had rung until eventually dropping off into his voicemail. 

“Perhaps he sauntered off with someone and decided he didn’t want to be bothered,” Dorian attempted to joke, but Sabrina shot him a glare that made him shake his head. “I’m kidding, of course.” He nudged his chin toward the exit. “Perhaps, he popped out for a bit of fresh air?”

Fresh air.

An idea sprung up in her mind. She turned and ran off without farewell, suddenly on a mission. The hallway she trudged into was dim, lined along the ceiling with cold fluorescent lighting, not like the warmly lit lounge just beyond. They flickered above her head as she raced in search of the stairs she knew, from previous experience, were just around the corner.

She found them easily: a set of narrow, poorly lit stairs that led up to a door marked with a neon red exit sign. Sabrina propelled up the stairs quicker than a cat on the hunt, shoving her shoulder into the heavy door at the top and pushing it open. It hissed as it was pried open, and she stuck a loose brick in between the door and frame, remembering that if she didn’t, it would lock behind her. The same way it had for Nick once. The same way it likely had for him now.

There wasn’t enough moonlight to light the top of the roof, and she had to depend adjust her eyes to the darkness before she could really see anything, but when she finally did, she saw someone seated against the barrier lining the rooftop, shoulders hunched. As much as she wanted to run to him, she held back and walked, careful not to spook him.

“Nick?”

He looked up and squinted in the darkness. Sabrina dropped down to her knees in front of him, put her hands on his shoulders because she had to touch him, had to make sure he was really there. 

“Sabrina?”

“There you are,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just—I’m _great.”_

Sabrina caught the glint of a bottle beside him, half emptied already. She took his hands, kissed the back of both, and asked him, “What are you drinking, Nick?”

He glanced at the bottle and then chuckled. “Well, at first it was bourbon neat, but now it’s just bourbon, neat.”

She knew well enough that bourbon at Dorian’s was generally served in a glass, and not by the bottle. “Where did you get that? Dorian said he cut you off.”

“I took it when he wasn’t looking,” Nick answered. “He might like to be called ‘daddy,’ but he really shouldn’t tell people what to do. Want some?”

Sabrina winced at the scent that wafted from the bottle when he held it out to her. She took it and set it several feet away, intent on leaving it there and hoping that with it out of his vision, he would forget about it. She had found Nick in a much more mellow state than she had expected, so she didn’t think it would be a problem. “Well, I think you’ve had plenty. Why don’t we go home and get into bed?”

“Okay,” Nick said like it didn’t matter either way. She couldn’t help it, she slid her arms around him and pulled him into a deep embrace. He held onto her clumsily, but tightly, like he didn’t want to let go. Sabrina kissed his temple and pulled back reluctantly.

“Ready?” she asked, and he nodded in response. She stood, holding out her hands for him to take and helping him to his feet. It took some time to get him standing, but he was finally upright, and she slid an arm around his waist to keep him stable while he swayed. Then, she took his arm and draped it around her shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

Once she got him to the door, she let go briefly to prop it open fully. Nick’s eyes told her that he was miles away, glazed over with not only alcohol, but exhaustion and hurt. She took a hold of him again and said, “We’ve got some stairs coming up. You’re going to have to help me a little. If you fall, I’m probably going down with you and then we’ll both be out of commission.” She had thought briefly about the other set of stairs that led down the side of the building, directly to the street, but they were much steeper and a lot darker. There was no way she could get a drunk Nick down those. These would just have to do, even if the trek to the car took longer.

“I love stairs,” Nick said fondly as though wistfully recalling a memory. “You never know how you’re going to end up at the bottom.”

Sabrina didn’t want to ask about his previous experiences with stairs and possibly terrify herself enough to not want to progress any further, so she held him a little snugger against her side and said, “Well, the goal here is to end up safe and upright. And not in a pile on top of your poor girlfriend who you might crush.”

Nick made a tiny sound of excitement. “The goal is always to end up on top of my girlfriend,” he flirted, intending to whisper into her ear but ending up bumping his face into the side of her head instead. Sabrina flinched a little because his voice was actually louder than he likely realized. “Or under. Actually, I’d prefer that.”

Sabrina wasn’t listening as much as she was staring at the daunting set of stairs before them and knowing that she was going to be responsible for their safety. She breathed deeply and told herself that if she could guide a crying, drunk Ambrose up the never-ending Spellman staircase, she could bring Nick down these. “Remember: one foot at a time. Go ahead, right foot first.”

Nick stared down at his feet in heavy concentration, as though he were working out an equation or deciphering some complex riddle. 

“Your right foot is this one,” Sabrina pointed out, finger tapping the corresponding thigh. 

“Right, right,” Nick said. “Makes sense.” He took one brave leap down, and Sabrina tried not to yelp when she went swinging forward, having not expected him to start bounding down them so quickly. “Hey, I’m pretty good at this!” When they got to the bottom, Nick kept walking as if they were going down some more stairs. Sabrina had to pull him to a stop before he went through the wall ahead.

She took the moment to look at him in clear lighting, noticing that his hair was disheveled, curls rumpled like he’d been fidgeting with them the way he did when he was overwhelmed. Even with his tired eyes and the drunken haze lingering over him, Nick told her, “God, you are so pretty.” He smiled, all dopey and lopsided. “Can I kiss you?”

“You can,” she told him, leaning up to peck him on the lips. He tasted like bourbon and night air, a little bit like the salty aftertaste of tears. She cradled his face for a little while longer, pressing a long, gentle kiss against his forehead before she finally let him go. “Where are your car keys?”

She’d had Ambrose drop her off with the idea that she would take Nick’s car with them, just in case he’d parked it somewhere where he’d get a parking ticket the next day. Plus, she imagined he’d want to have his car when he woke up.

“Um, one of my pockets. Can’t remember which.”

Sabrina started to dig around in various pockets, starting with the ones on his front. When she found no luck there and stuck her hand into his back pocket, Nick happily said, “Oh, there you go, Spellman. Go ahead and grab what’s yours.”

“Nick,” Sabrina said, because there wasn’t really much else she could choose from. She found his keys in the pocket of his jacket and sighed in relief. “Come on. Think you can handle being in a car?”

“I can’t drive,” Nick said without missing a beat.

“Of course not,” She was already opening the passenger side door for him when they got outside, holding the door for him. “I mean, are you well enough to handle a car ride? You don’t feel sick, do you?”

“I told you, I feel great,” Nick said, plopping down in the seat. She cringed when he nearly wiped himself out on the hood, his head missing it by a hair. “I wish I could feel great all the time.”

“I’m sorry, Nick,” Sabrina said, pushing his hair back from his face before she went shut the door and went off to the driver’s side. Once she was inside, she looked over at him. “I'll be honest, you won’t feel great for awhile. And that’s a scary thing to think about, but there are people who love and want to help you. I hope you’ll remember that.”

He nodded, his eyes already out of the window and looking at something beyond. Sabrina turned back to mess with the settings in his car, trying to adjust the seat so that it fit her height. It took her some time to get it sorted, and once she finally was, she was surprised to hear Nick outright laugh at her.

“You’re so short,” he said. “It looks funny.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly tall yourself,” Sabrina stuck back.

 _“Hey._ You never complain about my height when you’re climbing me like a tree.”

“How the hell do you turn this thing on?” Sabrina grumbled out in frustration, holding up the car fob while trying to sort out how she was supposed to start the car when there was no key at all. With her old car, it had been as simple as shoving a key into the ignition and praying that it started. She didn’t have the time or patience to work out how Nick’s fancy car worked.

Nick leaned over and clicked a button that said ‘start’ and then leaned back as the car revved up.

Sabrina pulled away from the curb, already having decided where she was going to go. While Nick’s place was closer, the mortuary seemed like a better fit for the night. She knew where everything was there, and she felt a little more comfortable taking him knowing she’d find all that she needed at her fingertips.

The car ride home was quiet enough, with Nick mumbling some random things in the seat beside her, commenting on oddly shaped trees and other nonsensical things. She parked the car in the mortuary’s driveway as close as she could to the house without fully plowing into it, and got Nick inside.

Ambrose was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs.

“Take him up for me?” Sabrina asked. It would require less from him, given that he could support Nick a lot easier than she could.

Ambrose nodded as he took over. “How is he?”

Nick decided to answer his question by stating, “You’re pretty.”

Ambrose’s brows went up. That was enough to tell him exactly where Nick was. “Thanks, mate, so are you.”

“Careful,” Nick warned as they started up the stairs. “I have a girlfriend.” Zelda passed them on the stairs on her way down, dressed in her nightgown and matching silk robe, wearing a slightly confused expression at the sight in her foyer. Nick said, suddenly sounding very formal, “Good evening, Ms. Spellman. You have a beautiful home. I love the, uh, the walls. They look very structurally sound. Compliments to the chef.”

“Thank you, Nicholas,” Zelda replied and as she glanced at Sabrina, who only shook her head to tell her not to push it before she followed the boys up the stairs.

Upstairs in her room, Ambrose deposited Nick on the bed. Salem sprang off the bed when Nick told him he was pretty.

“I’ll get him a glass of water,” Ambrose said.

“Good call. Thank you,” Sabrina replied. As her cousin wandered off, she returned her attention to Nick. “Let’s get you comfortable.” With his clumsy help, she managed to get his jacket off, and then his shirt. When Ambrose came back, she stuck the glass of water in his hand and told him to finish it while she undid his belt so that it wouldn’t bother him while he slept.

Nick somehow managed to set the glass aside without dropping it and wagged his brows when he saw the belt in her hand. He held out his wrists, and it took Sabrina several seconds of staring at him to realize he was waiting for her to secure them with the belt.

“No,” Sabrina said.

Nick raised his brows. “The headboard’s better, yeah.” He went to lay back but she stopped him.

Again, Sabrina said, “No,” and tossed the belt aside.

“No?”

“We’re not doing any of that tonight,” she told him.

Nick looked confused as he asked, “Why?”

“Because you’re drunk, Nick,” Sabrina said, stepping between his legs so that she could take his face into her hands, thumbs stroking her cheek as she tilted his head up so that he was looking at her. “You had a bad day, and you had a lot to drink on top of it. It wouldn’t be right because you can’t consent right now. You can kiss me all you want, but we aren’t going any further than that.”

“Then why am I in your bed?”

“Because I love you and I want to make sure you’re safe, so I’m going to stay the night with you. Just in case you need me.”

“Why?” Nick asked again.

“Loving somebody means helping take care of them when they’re having trouble doing it themself,” she explained. “You would do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d do anything for you,” he said with finality.

She kissed him again, on his cheek this time, and then lifted the covers. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Tomorrow’s going to suck, isn’t it?” Nick asked.

Sabrina nodded. She didn’t know what else to say. It would probably suck for a while to come. Tomorrow, she would be angry at the world. Tonight, she would comfort Nick and try to sort him out as best she could. Nick didn’t try to get into bed. Instead, he dropped his head to rest on her shoulder and she held him like that for some time, rubbing his back, kissing his temple. Then, she nudged him to lay down. He settled back into bed and she dragged the covers over him. 

Her phone lit up on the nightstand. She had almost forgotten adding Prudence’s number into her phone the night they’d all ended up at Dorian’s.

 **Prudence [11:47PM]:**  
-Is Nick with you?

 **Sabrina [11:47PM]:** **  
**Yes-  
He had a lot to drink, but he’s at the mortuary with me now-

 **Prudence [11:48PM]:** **  
**-Thank you

She set the phone back down. Nick was curled away from her when she finally settled in herself after rinsing up in the bathroom and changing into her pajamas. For a second, she thought he might have fallen asleep, but when she heard him mumbling to himself, she realized he was still wide awake. Her palm went up and down his back, striking up a pattern she hoped would soothe him. Now that the lights were off, the night had settled into the room, and seemingly, over Nick as well.

“Three,” he mumbled into the silence.

“Three what?” 

She guided him to turn over. When he faced her, she caught sight of his wet eyes and instinctively, she went to wipe away at them, an ache growing in her chest. 

“I miss Agatha so much, but she hates me so I can’t count her,” he explained, “And after Amalia is gone, I’ll just have Prudence and Dorcas and you. Families are supposed to get bigger, right? But mine just keeps getting smaller. How is that fair?”

It felt like her heart had split in her chest, a searing pain she still didn’t think held anywhere close to what he must have been feeling. She moved closer so that she could hold him, allowing her fingers to thread through his hair, repeating the tender motion over and over and wishing that with it, she could steal some of his hurt, too.

Nick didn’t say anything else. He was tired enough that he started to slip away, his trembling body slowly relaxing against her until there was no fight left in him. She didn’t let him go, but she did ask herself the very same question.

In the end, she didn’t think it was very fair, at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. You can leave a comment and give me some feedback if you so choose! It means a lot <3


	27. what if i'm someone i don't want around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, shorter update today because it seemed better to cut off here than to have an overly long chapter. I hope that's okay, but that just means the next will come a lot sooner since it's already done and just needs a few more edits. 
> 
> Also, warning as this chapter is pretty dark/angsty. It's also all over the place, but given that Nick is pretty much having a breakdown, I guess that makes sense. As someone who has had her fair share of panic attacks/anxiety attacks, the thoughts and emotions that get involved aren't exactly linear and don't always make sense.
> 
> In the grand scheme of things, this is probably the angstiest chapter--the rest are pretty bittersweet. 
> 
> Thanks for everything!

*

Nick was on the road again, fingers gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. The rural road through Greendale was silent and dark, lacking any sort of artificial light, the sky above like a thick sheet of velvet that seemed to fall entirely too close to the car. In comparison to the smooth sky, the road itself was rough, patched over and over and then left to wear down to practically nothing—as bare as the land beyond it. One wrong turn and he would end up in the ditch, or in the dense trees lining it.

But that wasn’t what scared Nick. It was always what he found on the road that did.

He felt someone beside him, and Nick soon realized he wasn’t alone. He cringed when he looked to his right and saw Sabrina in the passenger seat, wearing a pale yellow summer dress, her hair a kiss of silver under the moon’s soft glow. Her gaze was out the window, attention stolen as she hummed quietly to herself, and Nick wished it could have been someone else. _Anyone_ else.

Sabrina glanced at him long enough to smile, before her features were blurred by harsh, white light. Nick’s gaze snapped back to the road, where a pair of headlights had broken through the black night like a shock of lightning. He turned the wheel but the car would not move. He stepped on the brake pedal but it froze beneath his foot. Nick should have known by now that it was never that easy.

He shut his eyes and braced himself for the impact. It didn’t come. Instead, the air went cold, rigid as it hung thick inside the car. It was hauntingly silent, as though he had been swallowed into nothing, until he heard:

_“Nick.”_

He opened his eyes cautiously and found the scene frozen before him, the other car sitting nose to nose with his, particles of dust hanging midair in the space between the headlights like a snowfall stopped short. It was as though someone had hit pause on a film right before the disaster happened, and he could feel Sabrina watching him, waiting for him to continue. 

Nick was too afraid to look back at her. Afraid, because of all the faces he had seen in her position, hers was the one he wanted the least.

“Go on, Nick,” she said in a gentle voice. He flinched at its softness, at the way it simultaneously seemed to pierce the air between them. When he finally gathered up enough courage to face her, he saw that her expression was calm. Almost vacant. “Go on and ruin this too, Nick.”

He sounded six again, shivering as he said, “I don’t want to.”

“You will.”

Then, she turned away and went back to humming, eyes drawn to the window again, and Nick had no choice but to step on the gas pedal, had no choice but to put the scene back in motion.

Time snapped into place like a rubber band, launching them into the other car. 

He sat up suddenly, gasping as he struggled to breathe, the sound of creaking metal and shattering glass still in his mind, and Sabrina’s voice as she hummed—hollow and eerie. He wasn’t in the dark anymore, he knew that much, but other than that, he had no idea where he was. He moved quickly, recklessly, panicking when he realized his legs were trapped, tangled in something. A pair of hands grabbed for him, a voice startled him, and Nick nearly screamed.

“Nick, it’s okay,” Sabrina said as she helped him sit up. He realized he was in a bed, twisted in the sheets. He was damp with sweat, a feverish, hot grip wound tightly around his body. “It’s okay. You had a nightmare.”

“Where am I?” Nick asked, raspy as the words scraped out of his dry throat.

“In my room, in the mortuary,” she told him. “You’re okay.” Sabrina stroked her fingers through his hair and went to press a kiss against his temple, but Nick drew away, ducking out of her touch like it had burned him. The action pushed him the rest of the way out of the bed, and he collided with the corner of her nightstand, wincing as pain seared through him.

“Nick,” Sabrina said again, reaching for him.

The words rolled right out of him, snapping harshly at her, _“Please don’t touch me.”_

For a moment, she just looked at him, shocked, before slowly raising her hands into the air in agreement. “Alright,” she said, nodding, “I won’t. I’m sorry. Come sit back down. Let me get you a glass of water and—”

“No,” Nick cut in, “I have to go.” The memories washed over him. He fought with Agatha. He left Amalia. Prudence was hurting. Dorcas was crying. He wasn’t there to fix it.

Nick didn’t wait for Sabrina’s response, going off ahead to grab whatever of his came into view. His belt, shirt, jacket, shoes—piling all of them into his hands without making any attempt to actually put any of it on, his mind a frenzy, blurred around the edges still with sleep so it made him unsteady on his feet.

He hadn’t had a nightmare in months, but that was the thing with guilt. It was sick and it was twisted and it never left Nick alone. Not for long, at least.

“Nick, wait,” Sabrina tried, circling the bed and coming up in front of him. She caught herself before she touched him again, dropping her hands into fists at her side as she fought against herself. “Why don’t you take a shower first? I’ll grab you some breakfast, maybe a coffee to go along with it. How’s your head? You got pretty drunk, Nick, are you feeling okay?”

He knew she meant well, but her questions were only making his head spin even worse, and on top of the pounding that had started up the second he’d gotten out of bed, it didn’t make trying to sort himself out any easier. His heart raced in his chest, slamming into his eardrums. Nick could hardly breathe. He could hardly stand.

“I—” He paused, swallowing down the fear that had wrapped itself around him. When he looked at Sabrina, he saw her beside him in the car again, collateral damage because of him. Maybe not now, but soon, because if Nick had a track record for anything, it was ruining whatever good he managed to run across. “I’m leaving.”

Not leaving. Running.

He did that. Again and again.

He did it when he ran off to California to follow a dream that wasn’t his. A dream he thought he owed to a dead man.

He did it when slid into bed, over and over, with someone he had met several weeks into his first semester at UC Berkeley. A boy with hair so golden it reminded Nick of honey. A boy with a little bird tattooed on the back of his neck, something Nick would run his thumb over repeatedly whenever they kissed. A boy who had shyly offered Nick a key to his apartment after several months of seeing each other. A boy Nick had walked away from because he had been terrified of what saying ‘yes’ would mean, terrified that maybe one day, the key wouldn’t work and Nick would be left out in the cold again.

He did it again a little later when he met a girl with a smile as warm as a California sunset. A girl Nick had chased night after night, had laid himself bare just to get a taste of warmth. A girl who Nick hadn’t minded taking out and showing off, bar after bar, right before a night between her sheets—but only until they were both satisfied and he could slip away. A girl who had asked him, at a rooftop dinner in the middle of the city one evening, what he saw for them in the future and sent him into a spiral. A girl he’d left there, alone, after pretending to excuse himself to the bathroom, only to shove a generous wad of cash into the palm of their waiter on his way out.

Prudence had been right when she told Nick it wasn’t like him to commit. But Agatha had been right, too, when she said that he was a bitch for anyone that showed him an ounce of affection, because Nick didn’t want to be alone, either. So, he kept his relationships surface level.

And he had been okay with that—being someone’s choice for the night—because as enticing as things like love were, they weren’t long term. If you gave someone half of yourself, then what were you stuck with when they left? A tangled mess of frayed edges and loose ends, and Nick never wanted to be that, so he held onto the only thing he thought he could never lose: his family. Amalia and his sisters. Because they picked him. 

Because evenings spent hiding away in the hallway closet as kids, staying up and telling scary stories only to fall asleep in a pile on top of each other, meant that it was unbreakable. That it was forever. Most people didn’t lose their families twice, Nick thought, but then he had gone and ruined that too when he lost Agatha, all because he had picked the wrong person in a bar.

And now he was losing Amalia, and he couldn’t help but blame himself for that as well. He should have pushed her to move away sooner, pushed her to look for medical assistance elsewhere, should not have drank so much constantly, especially when he knew it worried her and that the stress was in no way good for her health. 

Nick should have kept his mouth shut on the ride out with his parents, should have stopped trying to get his father’s attention in the back seat because, in that one second that he had looked back to smile at Nick, things had gone horribly wrong. 

Nick was spiraling, his thoughts a mess of every mistake he had ever made. 

He thought of that night again, of being pinned in the backseat after the accident, of the silence that had followed the crash, and how hollow everything had felt. 

He thought of his mother’s hair like a waterfall as it hung over the seat in front of him. How he could still picture it gripped in his hand, could still remember the first responders as they tried to get him to let go, eventually having to settle on cutting it away because he had screamed and fought and refused. He didn’t know how long he had gone afterward with that lock of her hair still clenched in his fist. He only knew that whenever someone told him he looked like his mother, he saw it all over again—those black strands tangled around his fingers.

His father’s smile before it evaporated into white light.

The sky above the car and how it seemed to cave in.

How no one came right away.

How he was stuck in there for hours by himself.

“Nick.” Sabrina sounded panicked now. “Nick, please sit down, I’m worried you’ll—”

The room began to spin, and Nick shut his eyes, tight, willing everything to stop. And when he opened them again, he saw Sabrina. “I have to go,” Nick said again, haphazardly tugging on his shirt and sliding into his shoes. He turned and left, felt his stomach surge up into his chest. Sabrina came down the stairs with him, her hand inches away from his back so that he wouldn’t fall and hurt himself, but Nick’s head was pounding and his heart was aching—he was already hurting himself.

“Let me drive you home,” Sabrina suggested, forgetting herself briefly when she took him by the arm to keep him from leaving, and for a moment, Nick considered collapsing into her. He wanted, so bad, to hide away under the umbrella of warmth she was openly offering. But he felt himself chipping away into a thousand pieces, and he didn’t want her to see it. How could Sabrina ever want him after that?

“I love you, Nick, please let me help you,” she pleaded. Her eyes were wide, veiled with unshed tears, her bottom lip between her teeth, but Sabrina didn’t cry, not when someone else needed her, not when she wanted to be strong. And God, Nick loved her. He fell in love with her before he could have ever run away from her.

But all Nick could think about was how Sabrina would leave, too. He hadn’t lied to her when he’d told her that he would love her still, that he would want her no matter where she went, but he did wonder how long it would be before she realized there was much out in the world, and so little in him.

And then, Amalia would be gone, too, the only person who ever picked him.

And Agatha would never come back, would never let him tease her by tugging on her braid, because if Amalia was gone, so was she.

And Nick would be a tangled mess of frayed edges and loose ends, and it would be all his fault.

He only faintly felt Sabrina reach for him when he left through the front door, but Ambrose had come racing down the stairs to grab her. And as soon as Ambrose had her in his arms, Nick slipped away. 

When Nick was gone, Ambrose tucked Sabrina against him while she dissolved into tears, her shoulders shaking, tiny fists colliding with his chest as she worked to get out of his grasp.

“It’s alright,” Ambrose told her, stroking a hand through her hair, “I’ve got you.”

“Nick is hurting,” she said back. “I have to go to him, Ambrose. He’s _hurting.”_

Ambrose held her in place, didn’t loosen his grip on her until he heard Nick’s car start up outside. “You have to let him hurt, Sabrina. If you don’t, it’ll be harder on him later.”

The sob that worked its way up her chest was ugly, bruised with hurt and anger and fear.

Ambrose could only hold her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you thought! I really appreciate the feedback, and as always, thank you so much for reading!


	28. the few things that i know already

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm back! I hope the last chapter wasn't too bad. This one's a little longer to make up for the last being shorter.
> 
> Also, remember that high-school sweatshirt from the early chapters long, long ago? :)

*

Sabrina and Ambrose ended up on their favorite sofa, holding two cups of now cold tea while staring blankly at the TV, which currently displayed _A_ _Nightmare on Elm Street_ in full, screeching volume. Playing her favorite movie had been Ambrose’s attempt in cheering her up and she hadn't had the heart to tell him that it wasn't working.

She had her head on a pillow placed on his lap, his hand on her shoulder, squeezing every now and then. The popcorn he’d gotten ready for them sat in a bowl on the floor, the M&Ms halfway melted and smearing into the kernels. Neither of them touched it.

Sabrina sighed and finally sat up, shutting off the TV and looking at her cousin. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“I was watching that,” Ambrose argued.

“You weren’t, and neither was I,” she stuck back, tucking her knees underneath her. “As much as I want to watch Tina get dragged up a wall and die a bloody death, I just can’t stop thinking about Nick. Or Amalia.”

Ambrose watched her for a moment, his features softening. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know, Ambrose, I’m just…I’m sad,” Sabrina confessed, “I don’t know what to do, or how to help.”

“Cousin, I think you’ll help by just being there for Nick when he needs you. That’s all that you can do.”

“But he won’t let himself need me. He won’t let me help be there. I love him so much and it hurts to see him hurt.”

“Be patient,” Ambrose suggested. “I know you want to come and fix things right away, cousin, but sometimes you need to let things be for a bit. This is a big thing, and it isn’t something a hug can solve. Let him try and sort himself out first before you come riding in on your flaming chariot.”

Sabrina sighed and sat back, trying to focus on the movie again. Ambrose was right. Nick needed space, and he wasn’t alone. Sabrina had texted Prudence an hour or so after Nick had left to find out if he’d gone back to Amalia’s and she had confirmed that he had. It had relieved her to learn that he was at least with his family, but her heart still ached for him, and she didn’t know how much longer she could sit there waiting for him to come around.

“I’m going,” Sabrina decided, hopping up onto her feet. “I’m going and if he doesn’t want me there, he can send me away again, but I have to at least try. What if he needs me and is just afraid of reaching out?”

It wasn’t like Nick to come searching for help when he needed it. He tended to tuck himself away, tended to make himself smaller. 

“Do you want to come and check on Prudence, too?” Sabrina asked.

“She’s…keeping me updated through text,” Ambrose revealed, scratching the back of his neck a little nervously. “Prudence’s first and foremost focus is her family, Sabrina. That’s where her heart goes, and right now, it’s her priority. Everything else is background noise to her. She needs her space right now, but—” He nodded slowly. “She’s going to reach out if she needs me. She promised. And I’m here. Although…”

“If I see her, I’ll let you know how she is,” she finished, knowing exactly where her cousin was headed.

“Thank you.”

“Sure, oh—” Sabrina glanced at her phone as it started to buzz loudly on the coffee table. She offered Ambrose a bashful smile when he noticed the lock screen was a photo Roz had snapped of Nick and Sabrina at the river, his arm draped over her shoulder, Sabrina beaming beside him. The caller ID read Hilda and when Sabrina picked up, the sound of her aunt’s worn out voice greeted her on the other end. It sounded like she was rushing.

“Auntie?”

“Oh, love, please tell me you’re at the mortuary right now.”

“Yes. Ambrose and I are both here.”

“Oh, thank goodness, I just—well, hang on, give me just a teeny tiny second while I—” The front swung open and the cousins jumped at the sound of someone shuffling in. Sabrina peered down the hallway and saw her aunt Hilda waddling in, her purse hanging halfway off her body, phone pressed between her shoulder and ear, with a giant casserole dish swaddled in her arms.

Sabrina and Ambrose both rushed over to help her, Ambrose taking the casserole dish while Sabrina slid her handbag down the rest of the way and hung it up on the coat rack. 

“Auntie, are you alright?” Ambrose asked.

Hilda gave his cheek a pinch. “I’m fine, dearest, I rushed over hoping I’d find Sabrina here,” she began, turning to face her niece, the expression on her face falling as she pulled her in for a deep hug. Hilda was even warmer than usual, given she’d been hanging onto whatever was in the casserole dish like it was a newborn baby, the heat transferring. “I just heard the news. I’m devastated—utterly shattered. I cannot even imagine what Amalia must feel right now.”

Ambrose set the tray down to join them, draping his arms around the both of them. Hilda and Sabrina untangled an arm each to bring him in. 

“I made a lasagna, love, I was hoping you could take it to Amalia and the kids. I figured since you were probably going to head over and see Nicholas. It’s getting late and I don’t want to intrude. Oh, goodness, I can’t even think of that sweet boy and what he must be going through right now. And his sisters…”

“I’ll take it,” Sabrina agreed quickly. “I don’t think any of them have really thought to cook anything today, I’m sure they’ll really appreciate it, auntie, that was kind of you.”

“Of course,” Hilda said. “I only wish I could do more. Please, let me know if Amalia needs something—anything at all.”

Sabrina smiled at her aunt. “I’ll let her know.” 

Her aunt gave her arm one more squeeze before she looked to Ambrose. “I think Cee has had enough of me fussing at home. I’ve left him with dinner and a beer, would you like to have a cup of tea? I need something for my nerves.” 

“Absolutely,” Ambrose said. He and Sabrina had made their own tea earlier, but they’d forgotten all about it and let it go cold. It hadn’t been anywhere near as well made as Hilda’s, anyway. “I’ll start the kettle.”

While they spoke, Sabrina ran off to grab her bag and a pair of comfy shoes before she carefully picked up the lasagna, huffing at the heftiness of it. Hilda had certainly made sure they would be taken care of for at least a few days. “Door, auntie?”

“Of course.” Hilda shot over and held the door open for her while Ambrose dug around for his keys.

“I’ll start my car for you, cousin. You can keep it as long as you need. I don’t think you’ll make it a mile out walking with that thing,” he said as he motioned at the lasagna. 

Outside, Ambrose helped her settle into the car, settling the lasagna in the passenger side while Sabrina got into the driver’s side. He reached over, stuck the keys in, and bid her a farewell, telling her to call if she needed anything.

It didn’t take her long to get to Amalia’s at all, and she sighed in relief when she noticed the porch light was still on. A warm glow radiated through the curtains covering the living room window, as well. She tucked Ambrose’s car away safely onto the side of the street and made her way up, knocking with a gentle touch on the front door. There was some shuffling and then the door swung open.

Dorcas was on the other side, her red hair split into two messy buns, smudges of mascara ghosting the edges of her eyes. Surprise fell over her face. 

“Sabrina.”

“Hey, Dorcas,” Sabrina greeted, holding up the lasagna. “I brought dinner.”

“Who is it?” Amalia asked from down the hallway, coming around the corner. Her tentative expression brightened at the sight of Sabrina. “Oh, Sabrina, hi. Quick, Dorcas, bring her in before the neighbors see and try to barge in again.”

“Hard time keeping them off?” Sabrina asked as Dorcas shut the door behind her and flipped the lock into place. 

Amalia hugged her from the side. “They’re like sharks. How does news even spread that fast in this town?”

Sabrina shook her head in disbelief. Amalia hadn’t even had the time to sort her own family before the rest of the town was swooping in with their sympathy. On one side, it was nice to have that sort of support from a town of usually close knit people, but on the other end, she could see how it could be overwhelming, too. And yet, there she was, doing the same thing. Sabrina only hoped she hadn’t offended her.

“Hilda didn’t want to suffocate anyone, so she sent over a lasagna instead, but she’ll visit soon.”

“She’s welcome any time,” Amalia said. “Your family always is, sweetheart. And that smells delicious.”

“I’ll set it down in the kitchen?”

“If you don’t mind.” Amalia followed her, Dorcas trailing them. “Do you want some tea? A coffee?”

“I’m alright,” Sabrina replied, “I actually was wondering…”

“Nick’s upstairs,” Amalia told her, smiling softly while giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Third door on the left, you’re welcome up. He’s had some time to himself, and I think he’s a little better off than last night.”

“Do you think he’d mind?” Sabrina mused. “I really want to see him but I really don’t want to make him uncomfortable.” Not again. She really didn’t want to corner Nick in his own space, but she desperately wanted to see him again, wanted him to know that he didn’t have to be by himself if he didn’t want to.

Amalia’s expression was gentle, tender in that way a mother’s often was. “He loves you so very much, Sabrina. I don’t think he’d mind it at all. He’s just been a little turned around is all. Nick has a hard time asking for things sometimes, but he really has a kind heart.”

“I really love him, too,” Sabrina confessed. It didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable to admit that to Amalia.

“I know,” Amalia replied with a smile. “Run on up there and let him know. Come down when you two are ready and we’ll have dinner together?”

“Of course.” Sabrina offered Amalia a smile too before she wandered off down the hallway toward the set of the stairs she’d noticed before. Upstairs, just as Amalia described, she located the third door on the left and gave it a knock.

“Dorcas, I swear if you bring Lucifer in here again—”

“It’s me, Sabrina,” she called out. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” came Nick’s slightly delayed response.

She pushed the door open slowly, peeking her head in. Immediately, she realized Nick was in his childhood room, the place still set up to house a high-school Nick. It wasn’t overly decorated, but whatever his interests had been at the time still lingered like ghosts along the room. There were plenty of books too, of course, bulging out of the little shelf in the corner.

Nick was on the bed, dressed down in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, sitting up as he noticed her. 

“Hi,” Sabrina said softly, coming up to stand a few feet from him.

“Hey,” Nick replied, hesitating. It was quiet for a moment before he said, “Sabrina…I’m sorry about earlier I—”

“Shh,” Sabrina hushed gently, closing the distance between them and hugging him. Nick wasted no time melting against her, standing up so that he could hug her fully. It was like Nick caved in all at once, accepting every ounce of affection she was willing to offer. “You have absolutely no reason to apologize. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” Nick said, his voice muffled by her shoulder. She ran her fingers through his hair as he sighed and nuzzled his face closer to her neck. 

“I really hated to let you drive away like that, but Ambrose told me to give you some space. If he hadn’t stopped me, I probably would have followed you.”

“I did need space,” Nick told her, drawing away enough to look at her but keeping his hands at her waist. “Not from you, Spellman, nothing like that. I just…needed to sort myself out. And I needed to come back here, and apologize to Amalia for how I acted.” He paused, dropping his gaze. “I was out of line.”

“You were hurt,” Sabrina said, tilting his face back up. “But you made it right with her. That’s what matters.”

“I know,” Nick said. “I just…I was selfish.”

“You were thinking of your family,” Sabrina said. “I would have probably reacted the same way.” She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should ask what she thinking. “But Nick…Are you really okay? I mean, aside from Amalia’s decision, it seemed like something else was weighing on you. That nightmare you had, it looked like it really got to you.”

For a moment, Nick looked uncomfortable. Sabrina was about to tell him that he didn’t have to talk about it when he sat back down the bed, lacing his fingers through hers and tugging her with him. 

“I—” Nick started, and then paused again, as though considering how to phrase. “Sometimes I have nightmares. It’s been some time since the last one, but I guess with everything that’s going on, it triggered it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sabrina asked. “You don’t have to if—”

“I keep seeing the accident,” Nick cut in before he could back out. “Except, it’s different. Sometimes my parents are there, but sometimes they’re not. Sometimes there are other people in the car with me, and sometimes I’m alone, but I’m always the one driving. Last night, it was you in the passenger seat and—” He cut himself off, shaking his head, unable to finish his sentence.

“Oh, Nick,” Sabrina whispered, tightening her fingers around his. She brought his hand up and kissed the back of it to let him know that she was right there.

“I think…” He paused again. “I think it’s because I can’t forgive myself.”

“Forgive yourself for what?” Sabrina asked.

Nick’s gaze fell away from hers again. This time, she didn’t redirect him to look at her, didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, so she just stroked her thumb along the back of his back, reminding him to take his time.

“I’m pretty sure I caused my parents to crash,” Nick said finally.

“No, Nick, it was a drunk driver. Amalia said—”

“Yes, but.” He winced a bit. “I think if I hadn’t distracted my dad, he might’ve been able to avoid it, to swerve out of the way. I wouldn’t stop bugging him. He’d been out for work for over a week and that night, he’d finally come back and…I guess I was just excited to see him, excited to catch up. My mom kept shushing me, but I wouldn’t stop. He looked back for just one second and…”

Sabrina watched him for a moment or so, grateful that he’d opened up to her. She knew it was hard for him, and she knew it was even harder for him to carry that guilt for all of those years. It made her heart ache. She would’ve done anything to take that awful thing from his shoulders. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Nick,” Sabrina told him gently. “I know that doesn’t help, because you’ve carried that with you for so long and it’s hard to let it go. And I know you, you aren’t easy on yourself. You’re a good man, and you love so hard, so you hold yourself accountable for things you think are your fault…but it’s not your fault. That other car would’ve come regardless.”

“Maybe,” Nick said. “But, I can’t help but wonder.”

“I know.” Sabrina squeezed his hand again. “It was an awful thing that happened, but it wasn’t your fault. You were just a little boy in the back seat excited to see your dad. You didn’t want that.”

He nodded. She let her fingers trail back up his back to his hair again, stroking her fingers through his dark curls. Nick always relaxed into her touch when she did that. “I know,” he said. “Realistically, I know that, but…”

“But your mind won’t let it go,” she finished. “I get it.”

“And now with Amalia…” Nick said, once again trailing off before he could finish. “It’s just…it’s hard not to think it’s my fault, too. Even though I know, in the grand scheme of it, I couldn’t help but, Sabrina—”

She slid her arms around his neck, drawing him in when he started to break, rubbing his back. His shoulders trembled and she felt him exhale against her skin, felt the tears Nick had desperately tried to keep her from seeing.

“It’s alright,” she told him. “It isn’t your fault. It isn’t anyone’s. Awful things happen, and sometimes there aren’t any explanations, but I love you, Nick, and I’m going to be here with you every step of the way, if that’s okay with you.”

That seemed to make him tremble even harder. She thought she was starting to understand Nick a little more. He didn’t hold himself back because he wanted to, didn’t hide himself away because he had a choice—he did it because he was afraid of finding something and then losing it before he had a chance to save it. 

“I’m terrified, Sabrina,” he told her, his voice raw. “I’ve had Amalia through everything. She’s been here for the good and the bad. When I was afraid. When I didn’t understand things. Whenever I needed her, she was here. She picked me every single day. I don’t know how to let her go, Sabrina.”

“You don’t have to,” Sabrina said, feeling her own eyes burn. “All of that love that Amalia has for you, that you have for her, it won’t go anywhere.” She drew away momentarily, taking his face in her hands, thumbs wiping under his eyes. “That’s the thing with love, Nick. It’s self-sustaining. It doesn’t ask for much to exist. It just does, all on its own.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You told me you would love me wherever I went, remember? It’s the same for you and Amalia. That love—it’ll never go away.”

Hilda had often reminded her of that, reminded her that the love her parents had held for her could never be displaced by their passing. It wasn’t something that could be erased and now, older, Sabrina understood what her aunt had meant. She felt their love daily. She felt it in Zelda, who mirrored her father’s intelligence and wit, in the pride she had over her family. In Hilda’s motherly gestures, in the way she prepared her tea, tossing in a glob of honey and stirring three times, because Diana had once said that was the trick to a perfect cup.

People lived on that way, in memories, sure, but mostly in each other. Every time Nick laughed in the future, Sabrina would always hear Amalia, too.

Nick didn’t respond. He was quiet as he mulled over her words. Sabrina brushed away the stray curl that had stuck to his forehead and planted a kiss there instead.

“What do you say we get something to eat?” she asked, knowing Nick had likely not eaten anything all day. “Amalia said to come down when we were ready to have dinner.”

“I’m not really hungry,” Nick replied. “You go ahead.”

“Are you sure?” Sabrina gave his hand another gentle squeeze. “It’s lasagna. Hilda sent it over with me. It’s a monster, Nick.”

That seemed to get Nick’s attention, even if he tried to downplay it. It wasn’t often that her aunt’s cooking got turned down. “Hilda made it?” he asked, making her smile at the sudden change in his tone. She nodded. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll come down.”

She stood, her hand still in his, and helped him up.

“I love you,” Nick reminded her, slipping his hand out of hers so that he could drape an arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer and kissing the top of her head. That morning, Nick had ducked out of her touch like he had feared it, but now, it was the opposite. He held onto her like he didn’t want to let go. It didn’t bother her at all. She had meant it when she’d said she would be there with him every bit of the way, and that included being someone he could lean on. “I’m sorry, again, for snapping at you earlier.”

“I love you, too,” she told him. “And it’s fine, Nick, please don’t apologize. I have to admit, I can be a little overwhelming at times, and you really needed your space. I didn’t mean to corner you, I was just worried, is all.” She looked up at him while Nick stroked her hair back. “It’s awful to see you hurting like that, but I know it’s necessary and you shouldn’t be afraid to let it out. I’ll always be here for you. And I’ll never judge you.”

Nick kissed her and she felt the walls around him let up as he poured himself into it, letting his lips talk where he knew his voice would fail. 

“Nick,” someone whined from outside his closed door, paired with a knock that almost made them jump. “Can you hurry up? Amalia says she wants us to eat together and I’m hungry.”

“Coming, Dorcas,” Nick said back, though he didn’t make any attempt to move until Sabrina untangled herself from him and gave him a gentle pull, following the sound of Dorcas’ footsteps as they disappeared down the stairs. 

Soon enough, they were gathered around the small round table pressed into the corner of the kitchen, serving themselves while a quiet settled over the room. Sabrina thought that everyone felt a little bit off, still reeling slightly from the events of the previous night, but it wasn’t a threatening or hostile energy. It simply felt as though they were drained, but as they ate, Hilda’s lasagna still warm by the time it made it to the table, it seemed to restore some livelihood back into the kitchen.

The front door slammed some time later, followed shortly after by a quiet mumbling of curse words so eloquently strung together it made it easy for Sabrina to sort out exactly who had entered.

“Honestly,” Prudence said entering the kitchen and dropping her tote bag onto the counter. “Is this entire town full of inconsiderate social succubi looking to fill their daily sympathy quota in hopes that it will save their pitiful souls when they eventually fall away into eternal damnation or is it just this neighborhood?” 

“Sweetheart,” Amalia greeted while Prudence went to the fridge and poured herself a glass of lemonade, then withdrew a flask from her purse and dumped a hefty amount of something clear into it. “Did someone try to hand off another pie?” 

Sabrina glanced over. It seemed like the neighborhood had been rather busy since the news broke. She wouldn’t be surprised if Amalia’s fridge was full to the brim with condolences.

“A blackberry cobbler,” Prudence replied, wiping the corner of her mouth after taking a decent sip of the boozed up drink. “Beth from two houses down. She called the HOA on us that one year because she thought the landscaping wasn’t up to par, remember? Then she has the nerve to try and ambush me as I’m getting out of my car so that she could tell just how sorry she is how she hopes we can catch up.”

“What’d you do?” Dorcas asked, noticing the lack of cobbler.

“I told her to go fuck herself,” Prudence said as though it were obvious. 

“Pru, no,” Nick said in a flat tone that told Sabrina he meant the opposite. Dorcas broke out into laughter beside them, while Amalia only shook her head in response.

“Pru, yes!” Dorcas squeaked.

“Come,” Amalia beckoned. “Forget about Beth and sit down. Eat with us.”

“I’m not very hungry,” Prudence replied, holding up her drink. “I just wanted to stop by, see if you needed anything.”

“You sure?” Dorcas asked. “Sabrina’s aunt sent over a lasagna.”

Prudence peered over the counter as, investigating. With a nonchalant shrug, she stated, “Well, I suppose I could eat.” Then she turned and produced another plate and set of silverware from the cabinets before coming around to meet them at the table. “Scoot over, Nick.”

“Please?”

“Please move or I will put my heel through your foot.”

“Jeez, okay,” Nick said, shuffling his chair over so that he was closer to Sabrina, leaving space for Prudence, who dug into the lasagna without much hesitance. 

“Is Agatha coming too?” Dorcas asked, setting her fork down onto her empty plate.

“Agatha’s busy,” Prudence replied, without elaborating. Sabrina felt Nick tense beside her and she reached out to set her palm on his thigh. She was pleasantly surprised to find that it seemed to help, Nick taking her hand under the table and letting his attention fall onto her instead of his sister.

Amalia cleared her throat, sensing the sudden shift, and glanced over at the red head beside her. “Dorcas, dear, will you go grab dessert from the fridge?”

“Sure.” She hopped up from her seat and swung open the fridge when she made her way over. Sure enough, Sabrina could see that her earlier predictions had been true—Amalia’s fridge looked like a tupperware party. “What are you in the mood for? Peach crumble? Apple pie? Blueberry crisp?”

After dessert, which consisted of them settling for a fairly mediocre blueberry crisp—one that would have disappointed Hilda—Sabrina and Nick helped rinse up while Prudence settled Amalia into her favorite chair with a cup of tea.

“Stick around a little longer?” Nick asked once the dishes were taken care of and Sabrina considered leaving. “I’m going to be staying here for some time. Just in case Amalia needs me.”

She relented and they ended up in his teenage room again, Amalia fully immersed in the show she had running on the TV. Nick kissed her as soon as he had her inside, Sabrina giggling quietly against his lips.

“What?” he asked, the look on his face one of hesitance, wondering if he had done something wrong.

“Nothing,” Sabrina answered, motioning to his room. “Just feels a little funny, doesn’t it? Like maybe we’re supposed to leave the door open or something?”

“We’ve done worse things behind closed bedroom doors,” Nick replied, making her blush when she remembered just how far they had gone in the mortuary the couple of times she had invited him inside while her aunts and cousin were out. 

“Doesn’t count because no one was home,” Sabrina teased, sticking out her tongue as she drew away from him to go and look through the books he had stuck in a small case in the corner of his room. 

“Don’t even try tempting me,” Nick warned her, joining her on the floor and leaning over her shoulder as he withdrew a book from the shelf. Sabrina caught the title briefly before he went back to sit on the bed. _The October Country_. She smiled, loving that she and Nick had always had that preference for horror in common.

“You’ll regret it the second Dorcas barges in like she always does when I stay here,” Nick finished. “Plus this bed squeaks.”

“Hush, Nick,” Sabrina said, her cheeks pink. “I’m not planning on seducing your in your childhood bedroom.”

“Damn,” Nick said. “You weren’t even going to try?”

Sabrina rolled her eyes and turned back to look at him, though a smile played at the corners of her mouth. It seemed that the dinner with his family had helped mend his heart, even if just a little bit. It had released some of the tension in his shoulders, at the very least.

She peeled another book from the shelf and joined him on the bed, pressing herself snuggly against his side. Nick accepted her right away, circling an arm around her shoulders.

They stayed that way, comfortably quiet as they read, for quite a while before Sabrina eventually sat up and shut her book.

“I should go,” she said, yawning. “It’s getting late.”

Amalia had knocked at some point to let them know she headed to bed and to tell them goodnight, and Sabrina felt it was probably time for her to leave as well. Nick needed his sleep, especially since had hadn’t slept well the night before.

“You could stay,” Nick suggested.

Sabrina considered it for a moment, but then ultimately shook her head. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Amalia won’t care,” Nick said, sitting up. “She really likes you.”

“Well,” Sabrina began, “I mean, do you want me to?” 

“Yes,” he answered. “Is that okay? It’s not exactly the most glamorous.” He motioned to the small room, the bed that was a little narrower than what they were used to at his apartment, or her bedroom. “But I…I’d like it if you could stay.”

Sabrina smiled. It was Nick reaching out, letting her know he wanted her there, and she wouldn’t decline. “It’s cozy,” she corrected, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll stay, but um…I didn’t really bring anything, so I might have to run home and grab some things?”

“You can wear something of mine,” Nick told her as he stood. “And Amalia keeps the bathroom stocked with extra toothbrushes for when we stay over.”

“Okay then,” Sabrina decided, following him as he led her down the hallway and toward the spare bathroom and showed her where Amalia had a stash of extra necessities under the sink. “I’ll send a text to Ambrose and let him know I won’t be home tonight.”

When she came back to the room after rinsing up and brushing her teeth, she collected the books they’d left on his bed and carefully bookmarked his spot with a spare piece of paper she found lying on his old desk while Nick went off to use the bathroom. He returned and plopped back down on the edge of his bed, slipping out of the gray t-shirt and further rumpling his already messed up curls. 

Sabrina slunk off to the small dresser beside his equally as small closet where she thought she could find an old shirt or something to wear to sleep. She slid out the first drawer and found neat stacks of old, folded sweatshirts, left behind and forgotten by Nick after he’d run off to California. Something in particular caught her eye, piquing her interest while simultaneously making her heart fall. Careful not to disrupt the stack, she pulled out Nick’s older Baxter High football sweatshirt, the one with SCRATCH written along the back in golden letters. She thumbed the crimson fabric, softened by age, and turned to face him.

“You still have this?” she asked, managing a small smile though the shirt had left her feeling regretful and frankly, a little sad.

“Oh,” Nick said, surprise painting his features. “Uh, guess I stuck in there and forgot about it.” That had likely been his intention, anyway. After being thrown off the team, he had no use for it. Certainly not after she had worn it and then had Roz shove it right back in his face.

Sabrina let her gaze fall back onto the sweatshirt, which she’d let fall open in front of her. “I saw you that day at your locker,” she said, attention still stolen by the garment. “Part of me wanted to go to you, to comfort you, but I didn’t.” Sabrina looked at him. “I should have.” 

“Come here,” Nick said, opening up his arms for her. She wandered over, stopping between his legs. He made quick work of her dress, pushing the straps off her shoulders and sliding the fabric down, kissing every inch of skin as it was revealed. Slowly, he let it pool at her feet. He undid her little lace bralette next and then, he took the sweatshirt from her hands and gently tugged it over her head. “There,” he said, wearing a quiet smile as he smoothed the fabric down. “It looked better on you, anyway.”

Sabrina let her arms fall around him, circling his bare shoulders, her thumb rubbing gently at the back of his neck where his hair was shorter.

“You’ve comforted me more than you know,” he told her softly. “It doesn’t matter what happened back then.”

“I know, it’s just…” She sighed and closed her eyes. “I just hate to think of the time we could have had that we didn’t because I let one little thing ruin our relationship.”

“Then, don’t think about it,” Nick suggested. “We both messed up, didn’t we? Let’s not think about that right now. Think about how we found each other again. We came back for one summer and look what we found.”

Sabrina couldn’t help but smile and nod. He wasn’t wrong. She tried to imagine skipping out on coming back for the summer, jumping forward to her next adventure instead, and found she didn’t like whatever outcome that would have brought. 

“I still think I shouldn’t have jumped into dating Harvey right after you and I split,” Sabrina admitted sheepishly. It had, after all, failed, and she had to admit part of the reason she had initially given in to Harvey had been because she wanted to show Nick just how happy she could be without him. And that hadn’t been fair to Harvey, even though it had evolved past that once they left high school. 

“Gotta agree with you there,” Nick said. “Not even because I was jealous, but because really? Harry? You can’t get more vanilla than that, Spellman.” His tone told her he was only joking, but Sabrina still pinched his shoulder and made him jump.

“You were jealous?” she asked instead.

Nick looped an arm around her waist, tugging her toward him and then turning them so that she dropped onto the bed on her back and he was hovering over her. “Of course, I was. You went after a guy who was my complete opposite,” he told her, kissing her once on the mouth. “I’m pretty sure I was in love with you even back then.”

“No way,” Sabrina replied, shaking her head.

“Yes way,” Nick said, “I hadn’t realized it, but now that I know I love you, the feeling isn’t anything new. It feels like coming home.”

That time she kissed him, held his face in her hands. It felt like coming home for her, too.

When he pulled away, Nick reached over to shut off the light. Then, he settled in beside her, their eyes adjusting to the dark as Sabrina drew the covers over them. His bed wasn’t very big and didn’t leave much space between them, but she didn’t mind.

They were quiet for a while, Nick’s hand reaching out to stroke her face, thumb running delicately along her cheek. Even in the dark, she could tell he was watching her in complete adoration.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” she reminded him. “Always will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for reading! Please drop a comment if you'd like to--I'm always a slut for feedback/validation!
> 
> You can follow me on [tumblr](https://bunivys.tumblr.com/) if you wish, as well!


	29. parts of you were burning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: This chapter contains mentions of drug abuse, as well as hints a bit at child neglect/abuse in regards to Dorcas' backstory. Please, please skip the second cut (after Nick and Sabrina have breakfast) if these topics make you uncomfortable or are in any way triggering for you.**

*

Nick’s side of the bed was bare and empty when she woke the next morning, the covers drawn over her instead. It was odd to wake up alone when Nick was in the picture, given that he generally lazed around until the absolute last minute and it was usually up to her to get out of bed first. 

She wasn’t shocked, though, when recounting the events of the previous night. Falling asleep hadn’t come easy to either of them—her too lost in her mind of endless concern, and Nick, tossing and turning, unable to slow down long enough to rest. Unlike her, she doubted he had ever dozed off, but after learning of the sorts of nightmares he often had, it wasn’t a surprise.

Sabrina rubbed her eyes as she sat up, sleep still clinging heavily to her limbs, movements sluggish. The room was quiet, bathed in dreamy blue hues thanks to the curtains still pulled over the window, allowing just a hint of sunlight to trickle in along the edges. 

She slipped out of his sweatshirt as she stood, rummaging around for her discarded clothing. After pulling all of her clothes back on from the previous night, she gave her arms a good stretch over her head, ignoring the pull in her muscles that yearned for her usual run. In front of his window, she drew the curtains open and let the morning sun flood the tiny bedroom, squinting as she did.

Something caught the corner of her eye and she glanced over at his desk, a narrow wooden thing pressed up against the wall between his bookshelf and the window. She envisioned a teenage Nick hunched over it, his nose in a textbook, and smiled.

The surface of it was neat enough, sitting untouched for years most likely, but the item that had piqued her attention stuck out like a sore thumb and she reached over, drawing it out from in between the advanced literature textbook and calculus workbook where it was stuck.

Her heart fluttered.

It was a pamphlet for the planetarium they had snuck into during their high-school field-trip, the corners of it worn down, the paper slightly crumpled and yellowed with age. He had to have snagged it from the podium just beside the door on their way out and stuck it into his pocket as a possible keepsake.

Tracing her fingers over the weathered paper brought a smile to her lips, flooded her mind with memories from that particular day. All at once, the dam seemed to burst. 

She remembered the overhead sky, crafted to look real and dotted with various constellations, bathing both of them in soft blues and starlight. The feel of Nick’s fingers as they grazed her wrist. The look on his face when she caught him staring at her.

She remembered wondering if he would kiss her. Remembered the lingering hint of disappointment when they left and he hadn’t.

Things had seemed so simple back then. The yearning to run off with him again, to sneak into forbidden places, to be blissfully unaware of their surroundings once more, rose up so severely within her she had to set down the pamphlet. She didn’t tuck it back where she found it, instead, she placed it gently on the open surface of his desk, hoping that if Nick found it later, it might make him smile as it did her. 

The clattering in the kitchen stirred her back into the present and she left the room, rinsing up in the restroom before she started down the stairway in hopes of finding Nick. She didn’t get very far before the sound of hushed voices slowed her descent and she found herself curiously peeking down the remainder of the stairs.

Ambrose was in the hallway just in front of the front door, handing off a to-go tray of coffee and a tiny paper bag Sabrina assumed was full of cream and sugar packets. Prudence stood wearing a somewhat bewildered expression as she accepted it, as though taken aback by the simple gesture. It was unlike the guarded demeanor she had come in wearing after she fought off their neighbor the night before. 

“I’ll let you be, darling,” Ambrose said, his voice quiet as he addressed Prudence. He hadn’t noticed Sabrina but she thought that even if he had, it wouldn’t change a thing. He would still speak to Prudence just as tenderly. “Let me know if you need anything at all. I’m a phone call away.”

Prudence only nodded. Sabrina thought she looked a little bashful, swept up in the display of affection, at least for the moment before Ambrose noticed Sabrina and called out to her.

“There’s the other person I was looking for.”

“Morning,” Sabrina stated simply, coming down the stairs the rest of the way now that she didn’t feel like she was intruding. 

“Have you got my keys on you?” he asked. “Hilda’s got me running a few deliveries this morning—something about the Reynolds and a baby shower, so I’ll need the car.” It was then that Sabrina realized he was wearing the cafe’s apron. The flour dusting the edges of it told her he’d been up before the crack of dawn and had helped Hilda in the kitchen—which, Sabrina cringed upon realizing, should have been her job that morning.

“Sorry, Ambrose, I completely forgot about—”

“S’all good, cousin,” he cleared with a wave of his hand. “Slow day today anyway. I’ll drop by and pick you up when you’re ready to leave.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sabrina suggested as spun back around to grab Ambrose’s keys from the bag she’d left in Nick’s room. She came huffing back down the stairs a moment or so later, saying, “I’ll walk to the cafe and go home with you from there.”

“Suit yourself.” He held out his hand to catch the keys she had tossed at him. “See you, then.” Before he left, he ducked down again to kiss Prudence on the cheek, the action brimming with so much love that, for a moment, Sabrina considered stepping away and giving them their space. But then Ambrose was gone, leaving both women to stand awkwardly in his wake.

Sabrina glanced at Prudence, who plucked a cup of coffee from the tray and then handed it off to her, mumbling a quick, “Nick’s in the kitchen,” before she disappeared down the hallway, clearly eager to leave and in no mood for small talk.

She shook her head for a moment before she, too, veered off, except she went for the kitchen.

Nick was positioned in front of the sink, paused seemingly mid-thought, sponge in hand under the running water as he stared out through the window. She set the coffee down on the counter and came up behind him, slipping her arms around his middle. He startled a bit, mind snapping back into his body like a rubber band, making him go rigid for a brief moment before he realized it was her. 

“Morning,” she murmured, pressing a kiss onto the spot between his shoulder blades as he relaxed once more, leaving her cheek resting there afterward. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you—just missed you in bed.”

“Morning,” Nick echoed as he shut the water off and tossed the sponge back into its usual spot beside the dish soap, leaving the dishes he had intended to wash for later. She wondered how long he had stood there, vacantly staring, before she had come in and stirred him. “I couldn’t sleep,” he added, “and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” she told him, letting her eyes flutter shut as Nick wove his still damp fingers through hers. They stayed like that for a moment, her behind him, him relaxing against her. “I would have come down with you.”

“I know,” Nick said, his thumb grazing the back of her hand. “I, um, I just needed the time. To think about something—sort something out.” He turned slowly, her hands coming around to rest on his chest once he was facing her, heart beating steady under her palm. She was about to ask him what he’d meant, when he said, “I made some coffee,” and nodded toward the coffee maker nestled in the corner of the kitchen. It reeked of burnt, over-concentrated coffee.

“I love you.” Sabrina looked up at him, smiling when he did, watching the wave of warmth as it washed over him. “But I can smell that from here, and well, I’ve decided it’s too early for torture so I’m going to turn it down.” 

“I actually can’t argue with you there. It tastes like dirt.” 

“Here,” Sabrina suggested, kissing him once before she untangled herself from his arms and reached out for one of the cups of coffee Ambrose had dropped off. “I bet you this is better.” He looked relieved by the sight of it, popping the sipping lid off before he went in, undeterred by the steam rolling off the top of it, to take a hearty gulp.

“There’s breakfast, too,” Nick continued. “Dorcas makes a mean omelet. I promise it’s better than my coffee.”

“Did you eat already?” she asked as she prepared her own coffee, dumping several packets of sugar and cream into it.

Nick shrugged. “I’m not really hungry yet, maybe later.” He went on before she could press any further, gathering a plate and silverware for her. 

When he swung back around, the plate had been filled with a hearty serving of the omelet, still warm and doused with shredded, melty cheese, with two thick pieces of toast beside it. She hopped up onto one of the breakfast stools as he slid the plate across the counter toward her, handing her a fork along with it. Sabrina didn’t waste any time digging in, the scent drawing her in.

She was pleasantly surprised by it. Nick wasn’t wrong when he said Dorcas could craft up a quality omelet. She thought it might even rival Hilda’s, not that she would ever tell her auntie that. 

While she chewed slowly, Nick seemed to dissolve back into his mind, leaning on the counter across from her, eyes lost in his coffee as he swirled the liquid around in its cup. She loaded the fork up with a decent bite and held it out to him, Nick hesitating a moment before he accepted it.

It was a small step in the right direction.

“Eat with me?” she asked. “Maybe tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours? You said you were sorting something out this morning…”

He gave in, slinking off to grab another fork from the drawer while she buttered up a piece of toast and broke it in half, handing a portion to him when he returned. 

“I’m going back to therapy,” Nick revealed finally. “I stopped going when I left California, thought I didn’t need it anymore which was stupid and not my best idea, but…” He glanced up at her as though wondering how she would react. Maybe he was afraid she would think of him as broken, as someone who needed to be fixed.

But she didn’t. She could never think that of him, could never think of him as anyone other than Nick, just Nick. 

“Alright,” she said, “yeah, that’s a really good idea, Nick. Did you already look into it?”

“I called a little earlier.” He shifted his weight forward so that he was leaning on the counter, stopping the nervous shift his feet had taken up without the added stability. Sabrina reached out, taking his hand again, offering him some comfort.

“Good,” she repeated. “There’s nothing wrong with therapy. I went while I was in college. It helped a lot with the stress of law school. It’s good for you—it’s normal.” 

Nick nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly with her hand on his.

“You’ve got me, too,” Sabrina reminded him. “I’m always here for you, Nick. You can come to me with anything—you can tell me anything.”

Nick came around the counter to stand beside her, his gaze tender as he swept her slightly mussed hair from her face. Her hairband was still lost somewhere upstairs, probably crammed into her bag. “I appreciate that, Sabrina. Really,” he said. “And I will. I promise, I won’t run anymore, but…you’re my girlfriend—not a therapist. It’s not your job to patch me up, nor is it your job to shoulder everything for me. I can’t expect you too, either—I _won’t_ expect you too.” 

“You’re right,” Sabrina replied, nodding slowly in understanding. And he was. There was only so much help she or anyone else in his immediate group could offer. He was right in seeking help for the parts they weren’t equipped to tackle. A therapist could take all of the random, mixed up puzzle pieces and sort them out so that Nick could start reassembling them. “I support you, Nick.”

“I’m not pushing you away, I promise,” Nick said. “But…this—all of it—it’s going to be a lot. It _is_ a lot. And I haven’t exactly coped in the best ways before.” He paused for a moment, not elaborating but not needing to either. Both of them knew he was referring to his habit of falling back on alcohol as a comfort. Nick took a steady inhale before he continued. “I don’t want to hurt myself anymore. Don’t want to hurt you, or Amalia, or my sisters, either.”

Sabrina brought his hand up, holding it between hers as she kissed each of his knuckles. Nick was selfless, that was something she had come to learn over the course of their relationship, but this, it was something he was doing for himself, too. He was _thinking_ of himself, and that made her happy.

“It is a lot,” she said in agreement a few moments later. “And it’ll get harder before it gets easier, but right now, at this moment, all we’re doing is having breakfast. Bite after bite, yeah? We’ll take things as they come, one after the other. Together.” As if to further her point, she squeezed his hand, him not wasting any time as he leaned in to kiss her.

“Yeah,” Nick replied, moving to settle in on the stool beside her, a quiet smile settling over him. “I like together.”

They ate the remainder of their breakfast in relative silence, a comfortable buzz settling over them as they listened to the breeze outside of the window, the rustling of leaves from the nearby trees. The world still spun on as though nothing was wrong. Sabrina couldn’t quite decide whether or not that made it easier.

Amalia came in at some point, her wild hair tucked back under a silk scarf. She turned her face to the sun pouring in through the window, to the smell of tea olive as it filtered in from the bush right beside it.

She glanced over at them and said, “It’s such a beautiful day outside. Why don’t we have tea out on the porch?”

*

Nick found Prudence standing in the hallway where the Wolfe photos hung, crowded together in a makeshift gallery wall of memories, her gaze lingering on a single frame. He didn’t have to come up beside her to find out which one it was, but he still did.

He’d sent Sabrina on her way, tucking her safely into the passenger side of Ambrose’s car while she double-checked his choice in declining the invite to a dinner at Cee’s with the remainder of the Spellmans. She understood, eventually, that Nick had wanted the time with his own family, even if it didn’t feel entirely whole at the moment.

“Remember how annoying Dorcas was that night?” Prudence asked, not bothering to glance back at Nick when he settled in next to her. His eyes followed hers, snagging on the photograph of them during their first Halloween together. The five of them had crammed haphazardly into the view of the camera, stumbling over one another as they tried to beat the timer Amalia had set. That had been after her husband had split, labeling his wife as crazy for wanting to raise four kids that weren’t hers, and leaving her to figure out things like babysitters and family photos on her own. But she had done it. She had figured out how to raise them while still being in the picture, had figured out how to be mom and dad and everything in between—everything they had ever needed.

The corners of Nick’s mouth tugged upward at the aforementioned memory, splitting into a full grin as he continued to recall the events of that evening. Dorcas, wearing her bee costume, had been the most excited, running around trying to zap everyone with her stinger, yelling _buzz buzz_ whenever she landed one. Sure, she had been a tad annoying, but she had also been happy.

“Can’t blame her. It was her first time dressing up. Her parents didn’t really do Halloween.” They hadn’t done much for Dorcas to begin with, had tucked her out of their vision for the most part—Nick had learned that later on. He’d also learned that her eventual withdrawal had come after her parents had pushed her off to the side one last time, locking her in the bathroom while they got high in the living room. It had most likely been for her own protection, or at least that was Nick liked to hope. That they had done it because they hadn’t wanted their daughter to accidentally get into their substances while they were too far gone to do anything about it. Perhaps, they imagined they would remember her afterward and come back to save her.

But it hadn’t gone that way, given that they had ended up overdosing. Dorcas had thankfully been found by a nosy neighbor after they heard her crying through the slit in the bathroom window. She got the help she needed, but they never did.

Nick tried not to judge anyone by their lowest points—he’d certainly had enough of his own—but the memory of Dorcas the day she had shown up still haunted him. She had reminded him of a baby bird, cheeks as red as her hair, her body small and fragile and curved in like someone trying to appear invisible. He made a promise to himself early on that he would keep her, and the rest of them, safe no matter what.

It hurt to think that he might possibly be failing.

The fall of Prudence’s shoulders made him push forth, eager to erase his comment. He knew her protective streak ran deep when it came to her family, too. Falling into a more light-hearted tone, he said, “You were ready to hex her.” He jutted his chin toward the photograph, shifting his attention to the little girl dressed as a witch. Prudence. “And probably me, too.” He fondly remembered her telling him that she would snap his wizard wand in half if he pointed it at her again.

It was no wonder Amalia looked worn in the photo. He supposed the only one on their best behavior that night had been Agatha, despite being dressed as a mischievous cat.

Thinking of her put that same sharp edge back into his chest, pressing there like a knife.

He hated how disjointed everything suddenly felt. He hated that Agatha was hurting too, and that she wouldn’t come to him with it.

They were silent for a beat, the downward curve of Prudence’s mouth so much like the one she used to wear when they were children, the one Nick had constantly tried to wipe away by pinching her cheek and dragging up.

When she finally spoke, it hung in the air like an unwelcome ghost, a cloud of cold, dense air that almost made him shiver.

“What are we going to do?”

Carefully, Nick dropped his arm around her shoulders, slotting her against his side. For a moment, he thought Prudence might push him off, but she didn’t. Instead, she let her head fall to the side, against him.

He squeezed her shoulder and said, “What we’ve always done, look out for one another.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you thought.


	30. i know there's somewhere better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a light-hearted chapter. Nick once surprised Sabrina with a date, so she takes a page from his book.

*

The next week flew by.

Things felt normal, but at the same time, not. It was almost as if someone had taken a single piece out of a Jenga tower, leaving a hole in an otherwise still standing structure. 

Nick started therapy and moved back into his old room at Amalia’s for the time being. Sabrina stayed over more often than not, heading out to the café or elsewhere during the day and stopping by at dinner, usually with another meal from Hilda that was often an extension of what she was prepping at home. In the mornings, she and Nick joined Amalia outside for tea or coffee on the patio. It became a habit. Their ‘thing.’

Sometimes, Amalia would stop and laugh as she recalled some far off memory that involved the siblings, often embarrassing Nick in the process. Sabrina had noticed she’d started to do it more frequently, as if shuffling through her memories the way someone did a scrapbook.

After their tea and coffee that morning, Sabrina had gone off to the café, where she was now, hunched over and taking apart the espresso machine for a proper cleaning now that the morning rush had slowed down. The cafe’s phone blared, startling her and causing her to straighten up. Ambrose motioned to her that he had it since he was closer, eyes still glued to the screen of his phone while he answered, lazily muttering, “Sweets by Hilda,” into the handset.

He listened and then held the phone out. “It’s for you.”

“Who is it?”

“Dunno. Sounds like Melvin.”

“Why on Earth would Melvin be calling me?” Unless it had something to do with Nick. She remembered he was at the bookshop today. She grabbed the phone a little quicker at the thought of that. “Hey, Melvin, what’s up?”

He didn’t waste any time. “Hi, Sabrina. Nick fell asleep at the register,” Melvin told her. “He’s been all over the place today, I’ve been trying to tell him to go home but he won’t. He finally sat down for a bit and now he’s out like a light.

“I’m on my way,” Sabrina replied, slotting her phone between her cheek and shoulder while she fumbled with the espresso parts she had soaking into a bowl of cleaning liquid, moving to rinse them off before she started to reattach them. 

“I think he should go home.” Melvin’s voice was painted with concern. “I can handle the shop alone and I can stay and close up. He really should get some sleep.”

“I know,” Sabrina said. “I know, Melvin. I’ll see what I can do, but he’s not the easiest person to convince.”

“He is when it’s you,” Melvin replied.

Sabrina waved Ambrose over while she spoke. “I’ll be over in a few.” She clicked the phone off and looked up when her cousin approached. “Hey, I’m heading over to the bookstore to check on Nick. I’m done cleaning this, I’ll wipe down the pastry shelves when I come back. Watch the front while I’m gone?”

“Of course,” Ambrose said. “Need help with anything?”

“No, I think I’m good.”

She was already clicking a few buttons on the espresso machine, holding a milk carafe underneath it as she re-calibrated it to the proper shot size. Once she had it set, she grabbed a to-go cup and pulled four neat shots from it, topping the remainder of the space in the cup off with hot water, creating a fairly strong Americano as back up for when Nick stubbornly refused to leave like she knew he was going to. At least the coffee would help him through the remainder of his shift or until Melvin finally tossed him out.

She clicked a lid into place and then stuck a cherry danish into a pastry bag. 

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Sabrina said as she exited, pushing open the door with her shoulder and waving the pastry bag toward her cousin in a half-assed farewell before she spilled out onto the sun-drenched sidewalk. She apologized to the elderly woman she nearly mowed down as she hurried across the street.

As soon as she entered the bookshop, Melvin peered around a shelf, thumbing toward the register. His expression told her that Nick had likely already snapped at him for bugging him, and that he didn’t want to be around when Sabrina attempted the same. She shook her head and went on, making a beeline through the shop.

Sure enough, she found him—quite literally—with his nose in a book, his arms folded in front of him on the desk they used for the makeshift register. Sabrina dropped a hand on his shoulder, giving him a soft shake. Firm enough to wake him, but not enough to jostle or startle him. He moaned into the hardback and then sat up, the edge of the book creased into his cheek. 

He cleared his throat and, as though he had been awake the entire time, said, “What’s up?” 

“Well, not you, obviously, since you were face down in a book just now.”

“I was reading.”

“Nick, there’s a difference between being absorbed _in_ a book, and literally trying _to_ absorb the book.” She held the coffee out to him. He took it sluggishly. “If that’s how you read, I’m seriously suggesting you invest in a pair of heavy-duty reading glasses. Here, I brought you a danish, too.”

“I was awake,” Nick argued weakly. 

“Sure, babe.” She smoothed back the curls that were hanging across his forehead so that she could kiss his temple. “I got an idea...Want to go home?”

“I have work to do,” he replied. 

“Can’t do much work when you’re passed out, Scratch. And Melvin said he could handle it.”

“Melvin could get off my back,” Nick said, a little too loudly as he craned to look around Sabrina’s shoulder, to the shadow that quickly disappeared back behind a bookshelf—Melvin, sneaking about, no doubt. “And besides. What am I going to do at home? Pace around the house? Get yelled at by Amalia because, apparently, I’m hanging over her shoulder like a parrot? She wants things to feel…normal. And so do I.”

Sabrina nodded. “I get it. I didn’t really think I’d be able to get you out of here anyway, so that’s why I brought the coffee and snack.”

“Thank you,” Nick replied gratefully, not wasting any time before he dug into the danish. 

“What are you reading anyway?” When she leaned over to get a good look at the book, Nick shut it and tucked it aside, but she had already caught a glance of the title. “Is that…a medical textbook?”

He became preoccupied with his coffee, popping off the lid so that he could sip on it the way he preferred to. “I’m just reading it.”

“Nick—”

“I know,” he cut in, glancing over at her, tamping her worry. “It’s not…I know I can’t fix anything. I’m just…trying to understand better.”

The ache in her chest, it nearly made her wince, but she understood that, too. Maybe not personally, maybe not in the same manner that he did exactly, but she understood why Nick _felt_ that way. It was like the instance in college when Sabrina had taken a particular interest in planes and flight with no actual desire for the topic other than wanting information. It was a morbid curiosity, in a way, but it had helped her understand things to a degree.

It had helped her come to terms with the thought that once that plane had begun it’s fall, it’s spiral into the ocean, nothing could have saved it after that. It had helped her not to blame the men flying it. They’d run into their own misfortune that night, victims all the same. It helped her to understand that fate didn’t pick its victims, didn’t sort them out under good or bad and go from there. It simply existed.

And that no matter how many plane blueprints she looked at, she could never change that it did happen. Just as the families of the several other victims on that plane could not either. 

Nick stood, tucking the book under his arm, coffee in one hand and a danish in the other. “I forgot I was supposed to scan in all of the new stock. You sticking around, Spellman?”

“For a little,” she decided. “I might browse around a bit. I’ll come find you before I head out?”

He kissed her on the mouth before he disappeared into the back, Melvin trailing him while Nick got progressively more ticked off by the second. Sabrina shook her head at the pair of them while she wandered off, sliding her phone out of the pocket of her apron. As she had guessed, Nick was not going to leave. He was still having trouble sleeping at night, but it seemed like his body was starting to catch up with him.

She tapped the screen of her phone, searching for a particular contact before she pressed the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Harvey,” Sabrina greeted as she slipped behind a bookshelf, certain that Nick couldn’t hear her. “I need a favor.”

*

Sabrina tugged off her apron and hung it up on its designated hook, smoothing down her ruffled hair before she slipped out of the café and met Nick on the sidewalk. He straightened up from where he was leaning against the building, hands in his pockets, moving in to kiss her in greeting. She looped her arm through his and then, they were off.

“Can I drive?” she asked innocently enough. They’d decided earlier that she would come back to Amalia’s with him. By now, she already had an overnight bag at his place and a couple of clean outfits in one of his drawers.

He glanced over at her, lips pursed. Not an outright decline of her offer, but a definite hesitation.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

“Of course, I do,” Nick told her. “You probably should anyway, since I’ve been a bit distracted.” He dug out his car keys and handed them off to her as they approached the sleek black vehicle parked nearby. She let go of him and wandered off to the drivers side rather enthusiastically, Nick watching her in slight confusion.

She smiled back sweetly over the hood of the car before she ducked in.

Thankfully, Nick didn’t question her. She wasn’t sure if she could hold back the truth if he asked. They were headed somewhere, but it wasn’t to Amalia’s just yet.

“No plans with the family tonight, right?” she asked, attempting to sound casual about it.

“No, not really,” he replied, settling back into the passenger side, a tickle of a smile working its way across his face as he watched her fumble with the seat settings. Nick slipped on his seatbelt and asked, “Why?”

She already knew he didn’t have any particular plans, but still felt the need to ask, just in case.

“No reason.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed as she pulled away from the curb and started down the street. She kept her eyes on the road so that she wouldn’t smile. She was an awful liar, even when it came to occasional white lie. Carefully, she swept a lock of hair over her ears, remembering how often Ambrose liked to remind her that her ears lit up red when she lied.

He grew progressively more suspicious when they passed the turn to Amalia’s.

“Spellman, where are we going?” he asked. 

“I need to stop by the mortuary,” Sabrina lied. 

Nick went silent again after that, not pestering her any further even though she knew he wanted to. Soon enough, they passed the narrow dirt path to the woods that would eventually lead to the mortuary. The Greendale welcome sign came into view and then, they were slowing down on the rural road, approaching a Jeep that was parked on the shoulder. A lanky figure sat on the hood.

“What…” Nick muttered, squinting as he leaned a bit forward in an attempt to see further out. It was then that his eyes wandered out to the nearby field, where an old red truck was parked far out into it, a dot in the distance, but recognizable enough. There was only one person in Greendale who drove it and Nick knew that. She could practically feel his confusion swell, no longer held within but now, freely spilling out across his features. “What’s Harry’s truck doing out in the field?”

Sabrina pulled to a halt on the side of the road behind the jeep. The lanky figure, soon revealed to be Harvey Kinkle, approached the car as it stopped. 

Nick was already exiting the car, his expression only scrunching up further in concern when Harvey greeted them with his classic dopey smile and a weird aura of excitement. 

“Hey!”

“The fuck...” Nick murmured.

“Hey, Harv,” Sabrina greeted, ignoring her boyfriend’s bewildered expression as she grinned and ran off ahead of him, catching Harvey in a brief hug. She caught another pair of keys as he tossed them to her “Thanks so much.”

“Take care of her, please,” Harvey replied, to which Sabrina nodded back eagerly. 

“Take care of who?” Nick asked.

“And don’t…don’t do any freaky stuff back there,” Harvey continued, shooting a glance at Nick. “I’m mostly talking to you, Scratch.”

“Don’t police where I get freaky,” Nick shot back, even though he had absolutely no idea what was happening. Something stirred in the long grass in the field next to them, popping out beside Nick and startling him enough that he jumped back a foot or two, ending up behind Sabrina. “Jesus—!”

“Nope,” Theo said, unbothered. “Just me.”

“Hey, Theo!” Sabrina chirped, having expected him to appear at any moment.

“Oh, yeah, hey Theo, it’s totally cool of you to come out of the field like some Children of the Corn knockoff,” Nick said, peering around Sabrina’s shoulder. She smiled and slipped an arm around his waist, trying not to giggle at the way he'd jumped.

“Thanks, dude,” Theo replied, deeming it a compliment. Then he looked at Sabrina, thumbing over his shoulder to the direction of Harvey’s truck, which still sat in the middle of the field. “It’s all set, Brina.”

“What’s all set?” Nick asked. 

“Cool. Well, Theo and I are gonna head out then. Call if you need us, Brina,” Harvey said. 

“Thanks again, guys. Tell Roz I can’t wait to see her for lunch this weekend!”

After offering another round of goodbyes, Nick muttering one himself despite his bewildered state, Theo and Harvey started their retreat back to Theo’s Jeep, leaving the pair of them standing on the side of the road.

“Sabrina,” Nick said. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going on a date,” she told him, taking his hand and tugging him toward the field. “Come on, keep up and don’t trip.”

“A date?” Nick asked, voice perking up slightly but still riddled with uncertainty. “In the middle of a field? And why the hell did Harry leave his truck?”

“Yes, in the middle of the field. And you’ll see.”

They wove carefully through the long grass, Sabrina ahead of him, and eventually ended up coming out into the small clearing where Harvey’s truck was parked. The bed of it was popped open, blankets and throws layered along it, and a pile of cushions settled near the back. There were tiny battery operated tea-lights lining the edges. In the center sat two boxes of pizza and a bottle of wine. 

Sabrina let go of his hand, Nick too far lost in wonder to notice her as she slunk off to the driver’s side of the truck and popped open the door. She hopped up, leaning over the seat far enough so that she could get the keys into the ignition. Once it started, she hooked up her phone and put on a playlist, smiling as the soft swell of a slow song filtered out of the vehicle, mixing with the summer air outside and furthering the overall dreaminess of the scene.

She circled back around once she was finished, finding Nick still standing in the same spot.

“Don’t worry. We’re not in some random field. It’s the Putnam’s property—Theo and his dad know we’re here. Come on,” she told him as she hopped up on the bed of the truck and held her hand out for him, Nick slowly taking it and pulling himself up as well. 

“When did you…”

“Earlier,” Sabrina answered, already expecting his question. As they settled back against the cushions, she dug a hand underneath one of the blankets and pulled out a laptop. “Make yourself comfy. We’re going to have dinner, wine…” She flipped open the laptop, a film already set to play on the screen. “A movie. And then...I was thinking maybe a nap?”

“You planned all of this?” Nick asked, brows flying up in disbelief as he looked back around, taking in the small set up from their new perspective inside of the truck bed. 

“Yeah. Well, I planned most of it. Harvey and Theo helped me put it together since I was at the cafe. Roz picked up the pizza and met them halfway with it and my laptop, which she got from the mortuary and queued up a movie on so that it was ready.” She watched as Nick’s expression softened, and she continued, setting down the laptop as she did. “Things have been kind of stressful lately. I wanted you to have a chance to relax. Even if it’s just for a night.”

Nick’s voice was quiet as he asked, “You did this for me?”

“Of course,” Sabrina replied, a small, slightly bashful smile tickling her lips. “You deserve it.” She reached out a hand, fingers stroking softly up his cheek and then through his hair. She could tell the gesture had touched Nick deeply, rendered him practically speechless as he watched her, his own hand wrapping around her wrist, his touch gentle. He leaned in to kiss her, pouring every ounce of adoration into it. 

After a moment, she drew away, pressing another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before she moved to gather the wine bottle.

“Take a load off, Nick. We’re drinking this wine straight out of the bottle because I’m pretty sure I forgot to tell the boys to grab glasses, and I even got pizza from your favorite place instead of the one I like since, you know, love truly _has_ changed me,” she said with a huff of laughter.

Nick shrugged out of his jacket, grinning as he watched her struggle with the cork. “I don’t know what you see in _Slice of Hell_ when _Persephone’s Pizza_ exists.”

_“Slice of Hell_ is always hot. And their crust is better.”

“Yeah, but Persephone’s has Mozzarella ‘Styx.’” 

“Which I remembered to order,” Sabrina said, motioning toward the smaller of the two pizza boxes and watching as Nick went on to open it. She didn’t really care for them herself—they were a little too greasy for her taste—but she knew he enjoyed them. His appreciation for that minor detail was evident in the way he smiled. A bubble of warmth fluttered through her chest.

After a moment, she finally managed to wiggle the cork out of the bottle using the cheap corkscrew she’d found at the bottom of her purse, exhaling a breathy, “aha!” when it popped. Nick chuckled at her as she pretended to swish the contents of the bottle, giving it a sniff as well before she finally took a sip. It drew a deep, shivery wince from her.

“Not good?” Nick asked, pulling his attention briefly away from the never-ending string of cheese he’d accidentally started to unravel after pulling out one of the mozzarella sticks. 

It probably didn’t have a high enough alcohol content to get either of them even remotely tipsy, which had been her goal, mostly. A nice drink, but nothing too extreme. “It’s as good as a four dollar bottle of wine from the corner store could be,” she replied through a snort of laughter, tucking the bottle between them while she settled back into the cushions with him, the pizza boxes splayed out before them, the movie starting, and Nick’s arm finding its way around her shoulders where it belonged.

Things felt odd, out of place still. Like someone had tossed them around in a bag and dumped them back out, leaving them to reorient themselves while they frantically grabbed for one another. But in that moment, as she snuggled closer to Nick, him pressing a lazy kiss to her cheek, things felt fine. Perfect, even.

It was all they could really do for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I *think* there are three updates left to this fic, unless I decide to split it differently, but I'm pretty certain it'll be three. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading and supporting. I'm super grateful for any kudos, bookmark, or comment you guys leave me. Seriously, it means a lot, especially during this chaotic year. Take care as always and let me know what you thought!


	31. you and i are the same, somehow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's me. I never intended for this update to take a month, but things got hectic in the second half of December so I had to focus on other things. And then part 4 came out and I started tossing a bunch of my time into a fix-it fic (because damn, that ending was just awful)...so here we are finally. Hope you enjoy!

*

Sabrina spun on her heel, hair brushing against her cheek as she did.

“Large cold brew with caramel syrup and—” she leaned over to accept a paper bag from Ambrose, the contents warm, “a blueberry muffin. Thank you, Elspeth, and enjoy!”

Elspeth offered her a polite smile in exchange for the pastry and coffee. “Thanks, Sabrina. See you next time.”

“Of course. Take care.” She raised her hand in farewell, waving as Elspeth slipped out through the glass door at the front of the café. Before the door could fully shut, someone else tugged on it, triggering the bell again. Sabrina glanced up, her smile returning at the sight of Nick. Absentmindedly, she reached for a to-go cup in his preferred size, certain by now of his order. He dumped a couple of bills into the tip jar on his way over, not bothering to stop at the register where his payment would inevitably be denied.

_Consider it a perk of being my boyfriend,_ Sabrina had once told him.

_You’re basically family, Nicholas,_ Hilda had offered another time. 

“Morning, babe,” he greeted, leaning over the counter to kiss her while Ambrose pretended to gag at the other end of the counter. Sabrina, in an effort to further irritate him, only drew Nick in closer and kissed him properly.

“Morning,” she whispered once they drew away, a soft, smitten smile blooming in place of the usual one. 

“Babe?” Ambrose asked, brows raised. 

“Bug off,” Sabrina suggested, patting Nick on the chest before she let him go. She turned away to get his coffee ready, missing the tongue Ambrose stuck out at her. Once the Americano was ready, she slid the cup across the counter to Nick, careful not to spill it since she hadn’t bothered to cap it, knowing Nick would just toss the lid out anyway.

“Thanks,” he said, “but I actually came by for something else.”

“Danish?” Ambrose asked, jutting his chin toward the pastry display. 

“More like a cake,” Nick offered, blowing gently on his coffee before he took a hesitant sip. “Can I put an order in with you guys?”

Sabrina nodded, slipping by Ambrose to grab the clipboard with the cake forms from beside the register. She pulled a pen out from her apron pocket on the way back. “Sure, just because, or do you have a special reason?”

“No one orders cakes ‘just because’, cousin.”

“I order cakes just because,” Sabrina stuck back, and then narrowed her eyes. “And you eat cakes just because, so you have no argument there.”

“Amalia’s birthday is in a few days,” Nick said, grinning when Ambrose poked Sabrina in the side with a pair of tongs he’d retrieved from the pastry display. Sabrina fought them out of his hands while keeping her gaze on Nick as he spoke. 

“Amalia’s birthday is coming up?” she asked, a little surprised. “She didn’t say anything!”

“She doesn’t like to make a big deal out of it,” Nick said. “Cake with no candles sort of thing.”

“Cake with no candles?” Sabrina asked, aghast. “Do people really do that?”

“Amalia does.” He gave her nose a pinch and her mouth, which had been hanging open in shock, promptly shut. “We get a red velvet from Hilda and have it after dinner. Sometimes she invites over a few friends but usually, it’s just the family.”

“No way.” Sabrina shook her head. “Amalia should have a proper birthday. Balloons, candles, and everything!”

“Cousin,” Ambrose broached. “Perhaps Amalia prefers it this way.”

“Well,” Nick began, “she _did_ mention wanting a chance to catch up with everyone…”

“That’s perfect, Nick,” Sabrina added. “We can do that—pull something together for her birthday and invite her friends. It’s what she deserves.”

Nick seemed to mull it over for a moment, but there was a certain glint in his eye that told her she’d already convinced him, not that it had taken much. He loved Amalia and it was clear he would do whatever it took to make her happy. “If we do, it has be to small,” he said. “Nothing wild. Just her usual circle. Or else she’ll have a fit.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” Sabrina assured, Nick smiling in response. “Roz and I are basically the best party planners Greendale has to offer. We’ll make sure Amalia is taken care of.” She clicked her pen open and set the clipboard down on the counter between them. “Now, red velvet—I’m assuming with the standard cream cheese frosting right?”

*

“A little higher.”

Sabrina straightened her back as Nick lifted her further, legs around his neck as she brushed up against the garland of summer flora lining the awning of Amalia’s back patio. Carefully, she wove another peony into the mix, soft petals blushing pink under the summer sun. Then Sabrina tapped his side with the toe of her shoe, motioning for him to head right toward another bare patch.

“Higher,” she requested, several flowers still grasped in her hand and needing a home.

“Spellman,” Nick said, glancing up at her. “I’m not a crane. I’m afraid this is it.”

“Just a little bit.” She stretched upward, tongue pinched between her teeth as she fought for a few more inches. “I can _almost_ reach it.”

“Why did Prudence even take the ladder?” he asked. “She’s taller than both of us in her heels.”

“She’s putting up the balloons, Nick,” Sabrina said. “Now, _please.”_

“Well, since you asked so kindly,” he joked, grinning at her tiny squeal of surprise when he hoisted her up higher. 

“Don’t you dare drop me!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Nick assured. “I like your legs around my neck too much to fuck up any future opportunities.”

_“Nick!”_ Her gaze snapped down so sudden and severe she nearly tumbled from his shoulders.

He pressed a hot kiss against her thigh, teeth grazing the skin left bare by her summer shorts and sending a jolt up her spine. “Don’t act like you don’t put me in that position yourself more often than not.”

She tapped him a little harder that time. “Don’t make me send you inside, Nick.”

Both his brows shot up like she had just walked into a trap, a lopsided grin teasing at his lips. Before he could say anything, however, the gate to the backyard swung open and the remainder of the fright club poured in. Harvey, carrying a wooden basket with an assortment of decorations; Roz, with a basket of streamers; and Theo, holding nothing else but Robin’s hand.

“We’re here,” Roz announced. “Fright club by night, party planners by day.”

“Where do need us, Brina?” Harvey asked, ready to get to work.

Sabrina slipped down Nick’s back, pressing a kiss against his cheek on her way down. “Thanks for coming, guys. Harvey, you can help Nick finish hanging the garland,” she said, knowing Harvey’s height would prove useful in that particular department. “Theo and Robin can help set up tables and extra seating.” She motioned toward the clutter of chairs and small tables at the base of the patio, all of which had been pulled from parts of the house to make up for what Amalia’s small garden table lacked.

“And me?” Roz spoke up.

“Roz, could you handle getting the drinks and snack table together? Everything you need is in the kitchen, which is inside and to the left. Nick and I already pulled everything we’ll need out and onto the island. Dorcas should be in there preparing the punch and she can help you if you need it.”

The party would be small, offering a light lunch of finger foods and desserts, as well as a variety of teas and lemonades to sip alongside. They wanted to make sure it wouldn’t wear Amalia out, but would still offer her some time to sit and enjoy her birthday within a small circle of people, consisting mostly of her family and Nick’s, a few of Amalia’s close friends, and the fright club.

“Just watch out for the dog,” Nick added.

“Dog?” 

“The little fluffy one,” Sabrina said. “He won’t bother you…Probably.”

“Lucifer,” Nick corrected. “And he will eat your face off if given the chance.”

Sabrina waved him off. “Just don’t let your face get too close to him. You’ll be fine.”

Roz nodded slowly. “Noted…”

“Where’s Amalia now?” Theo asked.

“Agatha took her to one of her appointments. They’ll be back in a couple of hours,” Nick said.

“So it’s a surprise party,” Harvey deduced.

“Yes, sort of,” Nick replied. “Although, we’re not hiding or doing any jumping out. She hates being spooked, so we’ll take a gentler approach.” 

Harvey nodded. “Got it.”

“Okay.” Sabrina clapped. “I’m going to call Hilda and see how far she and Ambrose are with the cake,” she said, knowing they shouldn’t be too long. The cake was already baked and frosted. The last thing Hilda had to do were the final touches, which involved crowning it with some edible flowers from the nearby florist and sticking a few of her favorite sparkling candles on top.

Nick picked up the basket of garland. “Come on, farm boy.”

“You’re not getting on my shoulders…” Harvey said wearily.

“You couldn’t handle me anyway,” Nick dismissed.

*

“Are we ready?” Sabrina asked, fluffing up one of the cushions they’d plopped down on the patio steps for extra seating. 

Amalia’s backyard had been decked out to resemble a proper garden party. Paper lanterns were strung along the patio railing, lush garland hanging from the awning, bits of wildflowers woven in through the bundles of peonies. The rickety old fold-out tables they’d pulled from storage were covered with printed tablecloths and weighted down in the centers with tiered serving trays of pastries—cherry danishes, blackberry tarts, lemon bars, and several other sweets sitting in abundance. Hilda’s famous tea sandwiches were plated neatly beside pitchers of fresh lemonade swirling with ice and freshly cut fruit. Dorcas set down a large charcuterie board just as Agatha’s car pulled into the drive way.

“I don’t understand what the point of wearing my nice dress was, Agatha,” Amalia’s voice echoed beyond the fence. “And why are we going through the back gate? Don’t tell me Nick broke the key off in the front door again…”

The gate to the backyard swung open, Amalia freezing upon seeing everyone seated around her backyard.

“What’s all this?” she asked, taking a few hesitant steps inside, Agatha at her reach. Amalia remained a step or two ahead of her as she wandered around, taking in the sight before her. Sabrina stood waving her toward the table they’d designated as the birthday girl’s, a crown she’d woven out of the flowers leftover from the garland clutched delicately between her fingers, waiting to be placed on Amalia’s head.

“Happy birthday, ‘Mal,” Nick greeted, drawing her into a gentle embrace. Her eyes lit up, radiating with confusion and joy all at once as he led her to her seat, the others coming in to greet her as well.

Sabrina set the crown of flowers on her head and leaned into her embrace when she drew her in. “We wanted to do something special for you.” She made space as Hilda came over with the cake, sparkles dancing atop the cake, sending bits of light glinting about.

“They put you up to this, too, Hilda?” 

Hilda shrugged, her smile grand. “You know me, dearie, any excuse to bake a cake,” she said. “Now blow, before we set something on fire.”

The group huddled in, clapping enthusiastically when Amalia finally managed to tame the seemingly never-ending candles, blowing at them each time they somehow re-sparked. It only took one look at Nick for Sabrina to realize he’d swapped out the original candles for the trick candles, earning him a slap on the back from Amalia when she caught him laughing. 

They cut into the cake after that, serving Amalia the first and largest slice, all of them settling back, chatter and laughter flowing freely between them. It didn’t take long before Zelda, Amalia, and Hilda dissolved into some gossip-filled conversation involving something that had happened at the town hall meeting the previous week. 

“This was wonderful,” Amalia said when Sabrina came by to collect the discarded cake plates. “Thank you.” 

She had seen Amalia happy before, but she radiated something else entirely at the moment. 

“You deserve a good birthday.”

“I’ve never had a bad birthday,” Amalia admitted, squeezing her arm when she came around. “Not when I spend it with my kids. But this…is something else. It means a great deal, Sabrina.” 

“I know we’re doing this a little backward, with dessert first and all,” Hilda began, giving Amalia a friendly little elbow in the arm. “But we’ve got some lovely sandwiches and a hefty cheese-board. And the lemonade’s fresh-squeezed. How about a glass?” 

Amalia said something in response and the pair of them fell into a laughing fit, Sabrina smiling as she circled back around to meet Nick at the snack table.

“Hang on,” he said from beside the table. “There’s supposed to be a salad too. I think we forgot it in the kitchen.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sabrina said, motioning to the pile of plates in her hand that needed to be dumped off in the sink. He kissed her on the cheek, using it as a chance to slip the plates out from her grasp and into his. Still, Sabrina slipped her hand in his back pocket and followed him into the house.

“I haven’t seen Amalia this happy in a long time,” Nick admitted when they were indoors. “She hasn’t even gotten her presents yet.”

“I get the feeling she doesn’t really care about those right now,” Sabrina said, smiling as she recalled the sheer joy radiating off Amalia. She knew Amalia didn’t get to go out much, her condition leaving her mostly homebound, and even though she hadn’t exactly gone anywhere, they’d brought the party to her and that seemed to be exactly what she needed. A moment in time dedicated to the people she adored most, another memory to recall when things inevitably got harder. 

Agatha was in the kitchen when they entered, gathering the bottles of champagne she had volunteered to go and get earlier. She had, of course, ignored Nick entirely for most of the gathering, but she was at least present, had at least pushed aside their disagreement and helped them pull it all together. That had to mean something.

Her back went rigid when Nick set the plates down in the sink beside her. The tension between them was thick, Sabrina could probably reach out and grasp if she wanted. It only worsened when Nick asked, “Do you want any help?”

“From you?” Agatha scoffed and turned away. “No thanks.”

He stood there for a moment, contemplating and seemingly deciding to fuck it all and say what was on his mind. “When is this going to end, Agatha?” he asked. “When the hell are you going to give me a break?”

“All you get are breaks, Nicholas,” she spat back. “And all you do is cause breaks.”

Nick straightened defensively, eyes narrowing. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think?” she asked, then she moved to step around him, but Nick turned and kept her in his gaze. “Leave me the hell alone.”

“I have been,” Nick snapped. “I’ve been leaving you alone, hoping one day you’ll get over it and come around, but you never do. And you know who feels it, Agatha? This fucking—gap between us? Amalia. It’s her birthday and she can’t even get two of her kids together in the same photo. How is that helping? Or making it any easier on her?”

Someone came up beside Sabrina, startling her as an arm slid around hers and drew her toward the exit. “It’s time to go,” Prudence said.

“But—” Sabrina tried to tug out of her grasp, eyes on Nick, but Prudence’s grip overpowered her. _“Nick.”_

“Leave them,” she said, pushing the both of them outside and shutting the door. “Let them sort it out.”

“They’re going to kill each other,” Sabrina said, glancing back at the door as Prudence closed them in. “Prudence, I think they might hate each other…”

Prudence shook her head, but her grip on Sabrina loosened up as they neared the others, though her arm stayed looped through hers. “Nick and Agatha’s problems have always been that they care too much,” she said, sitting her down in an open seat and dropping into the one beside it. “They always have. It’s never stopped, just shifted.”

*

“Leave Amalia out of it,” Agatha said.

“She’s _dying.”_

The words tumbled out of him before he could even consider them, solid and heavy. Real. The first time Nick let himself think it, much less say it, in such a concrete manner. It hung for a moment between them, Agatha staring back at him, mouth parted, frozen.

“She’s dying, Agatha,” Nick repeated. “Is she ever going to see us together again? Or is she going to leave wondering if we’ll ever make up? Is she…” He swallowed the lump in his throat, forced down all the nasty things he wanted to shout at her. At himself. “Is she going to wonder if it was her? If she failed as a mother? You know she thinks that—” 

“Shut the fuck up, Nick. Seriously, _shut up—”_

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, his voice thick like syrup in his throat. “Honest to God, Agatha, I’m—”

“Stop, Nick.”

“I didn’t _mean_ to kiss him. I was exhausted and completely out of it after Amalia told us she was sick again. I couldn’t sleep. I ended up at Dorian’s and that’s where I—”

Agatha turned to leave but Nick reached out and grabbed her wrist. 

“That’s where I met him,” he said, “I didn’t think. I had a few drinks and before I knew it, I was..” Making out with him. Strung out on a sofa at the very back of the bar without a single thought on his mind. “He kept insisting I take him home. I didn’t want to. I wasn’t going to. And then you showed up and I realized he was so adamant about going home with me because he was supposed to meet you there. I didn’t know, Agatha, but I’m really fucking sorry, okay?”

She stared at him, mouth in a straight line, gaze unreadable. It was the first time she had ever let Nick get as far as he had about the matter. 

“I’m sorry for ruining whatever perfect life you had planned with that complete _jack-ass._ And I’m sorry you had to catch him cheating on you with _me_ over some random person down the line. I know that made it worse, but I swear to you, I would have told him to fuck off had I known. And I would have told you.”

He was radiating with something hot, trembling with it. With fear and anger and everything that came in between. It hurt that Agatha had never given him a chance to say his side, but now that he had, he wondered if he regretted it. He wondered if it made a difference at all, or if it had only served to push his sister further from him.

“I already _knew_ that,” Agatha said. “You think Prudence didn’t tell me?”

“Then what the fuck!”

“That’s not the _point!”_ Agatha shouted, setting the bottle of champagne down so hard it nearly startled him. “The point…The fucking point, _Nick,_ is that _you_ got to be first. Again!” He opened his mouth to refute, but she threw a palm up, silencing him. “I never get to be first—in anything! Who does Prudence go to first when she’s upset? When she needs someone?”

He thought of Prudence showing up at his apartment, distraught over Ambrose, and didn’t say anything.

_“You,_ Nick,” she spat. “And Dorcas? When she’s afraid? Who is the first person she runs to? _You,_ again.”

“Agatha—”

“And when Amalia got sick again…I was _here,_ in _Greendale._ You were in California, across the country, and do you know who she called first?”

“Me,” Nick said.

_“You,”_ Agatha repeated. “And then I finally…I met someone. I had a plan— _we_ had a plan. He was in the industry and he was going to set up an internship for me in New York! I was going to leave Greendale _finally_ and I had someone who—I thought—was all for me…but what happened?”

Nick winced.

_“You_ showed up—”

“Agatha…”

“You showed up and I was forgotten, again.” 

“He hardly knew me,” Nick said. “I don’t think he even knew my name, Agatha…It could have literally been anyone. It just so happened to be me.”

“Yeah, I realize that, moron,” Agatha said, ruefully. “It doesn’t really make a difference. Not to me. Because it might as well have been you.”

The anger resided, shifted into something that sat like a pit of black in his stomach. Silence settled over the kitchen, ugly and aching. That room Amalia had spent so much time building into something warm suddenly felt desolate and cold.

“I didn’t know,” Nick said quietly. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

She turned away from him to set the tray of champagne flutes, Nick trying not to notice the way her fingers trembled. “Surprise,” she answered ruefully.

“I’m sorry.” He took a hesitant step her way. “Agatha?”

“Leave me be, Nick.”

*

Sabrina squeezed Amalia’s shoulder as she stood, leaving the conversation that was still flowing easily between her aunts and Amalia the moment she noticed Nick leaving the house again. She went to him and he took her hand when she offered it. 

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Fine,” Nick told her, a small smile on his face. Except, Sabrina loved him enough to know which smiles of his were for himself, and which were for others. The one he wore currently was meant for her, meant to soothe her concerns, and was not a reflection of his mood. 

“Are you sure?” she asked. “How’s Agatha?”

He let go of her hand to slide his arm around her waist, jostling her a bit in a friendly manner before he planted a kiss on the crown of her head. “I’m sure,” he said. “It’s Amalia’s day. I just want to make sure it’s good.”

Sabrina understood that meant he didn’t want to delve into it at the moment, that he didn’t want to ruin his mother’s birthday, so she gave him a gentle tug in the direction where the others were seated, the majority of them clapping along to some ridiculous joke Ambrose had made. 

The rest of the day went by pleasantly. The laughter never seemed to die down long enough before it was riled up once more, flowing between everyone as they passed back and forth plates of sweets and refilled glasses. Eventually, when the time came, the guests began to clear away, Ambrose tucking their aunties in the car before he helped Sabrina and the others clean up what was left of the party. 

It was nearing the evening when Sabrina finally dusted off her hands and decided it was time for them to leave as well. 

“You could stay,” Nick suggested, drawing her into his arms against the kitchen counter after they finished putting away the freshly cleaned dishes. 

“I think you should take the evening, spend it with your sisters and Amalia,” she told him, leaning up to kiss him. They stayed that way for a couple of moments, tucked away, enjoying one another until she eventually drew away. “And I should go find Ambrose…Say goodbye to Amalia for the night.”

“I think I know where he is,” Nick said, motioning with his chin toward the doorway.

Sure enough, through the window down the hallway, she spotted her cousin beside his car, no doubt serenading a Prudence who seemed to be lingering on the fine line between being impressed and annoyed. At least it would be easy enough to just shove him into the car.

Nick walked her out through the back so that she could bid Amalia a farewell. She was seated on the bench swing beside the garden she had never quite managed to tame. When Sabrina neared, Amalia didn’t waste a moment, taking her by the hand and drawing her toward her.

“My sweet girl,” Amalia greeted, offering her a warm smile. “You’ve helped make today so special. Thank you.”

“Did you have a good time?” Sabrina asked, beaming.

“It was wonderful seeing everyone together again,” Amalia said. “It’s not often we can gather like this.”

“We’ll have to find some excuse to do it again. Soon, before I’m off again,” she decided, wanting another gathering of some sort before she left Greendale for a bit. It was too bad Nick’s birthday had passed a bit earlier in the year, otherwise, she would have had great fun pushing his buttons about it. “I should go,” she said, leaning in to hug Amalia. 

“Take care,” Amalia said, giving her hands a squeeze before she moved away. “And Sabrina?”

Sabrina glanced at her expectantly. 

“I’m so happy to know you,” Amalia said. “Wherever you go, I just know it will be brighter because of you.”

*

Nick joined Amalia on the swing after Ambrose and Sabrina departed, sighing in relief now that he was able to settle for the evening. Amalia’s party had been a raving success, but it had also been a bit of work to set up and he was exhausted. He kicked off the ground gently, sending the swing into motion and grinning when Amalia glared at him after nearly dropping the magazine she was perusing through.

“Don’t even start,” Amalia said. “I’m an old lady now, you know.”

Nick nearly snorted at that. “Is that your excuse now?” he asked jokingly, trying to duck out of the way when she reached over and ruffled his hair into a mess the way she used to do when he was younger.

“I had a nice day today,” she said, tossing the magazine to the side, enjoying the light breeze the in-motion swing brought. Nick thought she looked peaceful, happier than she had in a long time. Stress had been such a large factor in the past few months, and even someone as laid back and carefree as Amalia was prone to the effects of it. “I know you had something to do with it, too.”

“It was all Sabrina,” Nick tried to say, shrugging.

“I know that’s not true,” she said. “I know you helped—your sisters, too.”

“You deserved it,” he admitted. “Things have been hard lately. A mess at times.”

“It was easy to forget all of that today.”

“I want it to be like this all the time,” he said, and despite his best efforts, his voice tripped over itself a bit at the end. “You took care of us, Amalia, I just want to be able to do that for you, too. And it’s just not fair…”

He began to recall all of the moments he had reached his hand out and found Amalia’s on the other end. Patient, caring, loving—everything a mother was supposed to be. 

At six, when everything had taken a turn and his world had been shaken abruptly, shifting into something he hardly recognized. Amalia had sat with him for hours even if he had refused to speak, refused to eat, offering a hand while he cried in silence for his mother—his _real_ mother. It had taken a lot of time, even more patience, and several helpings of Hilda’s cherry danishes to get him to come out of his shell, but she had never backed down, not even for a moment.

At eleven, when he and his sisters started at Greendale Middle, a different setting to the home-schooled situation they had been a part of for the majority of their time with Amalia, and he found that not everyone was as understanding of his family’s structure as he was. Some of his classmates had been curious, while others had been downright cruel, asking how the four of them were related if none of them looked alike. 

He remembered Prudence getting in trouble because she hit a boy who made fun of Agatha, Nick following suit not long after when he refused to tell on his sisters. It had been Amalia who had sat them down afterward and explained that no two families were the same and that it did not matter how they were related, only that they loved each other.

At fourteen, when Nick, a scrawny freshman at Baxter High, started to wonder about things that came naturally with age. When, in his math class, he couldn’t stop his eyes every time they wandered over to the boy beside him, heartbeat racing every time he’d made a joke and earned a smile back, curious each time how he could turn it into a laugh instead, how he could get him to look his way a little longer. 

When he’d had the flicker of realization that he might like boys just as well as he liked girls.

When he hadn’t told anyone for a while, worried about how it would be perceived when he saw other kids get bullied and called names, until he finally couldn’t take it and went home, trembling like a leaf, to the very spot he sat at now, reaching out for Amalia while he was most vulnerable. When he’d stumbled and stuttered over his own words so severely it had taken him nearly four tries to say what he wanted to say, to put himself out there, bare as daylight, for the very first time.

She hadn’t backed down. 

Instead, she had assured him that everything he felt was normal and valid, had offered him endless support, and had always made sure he knew he was safe. He had never been able to put into words just how much that it meant to him then, how much it still meant today, to know that there hadn’t been an ounce of him she’d wanted to change.

Amalia squeezed his hand the same way she had back then, calmly, steadily, never leaving Nick wondering whether he was taking up too much time, or too much space. “But you have,” she said. “You kids gave me everything I ever needed.”

“I’m not sure—I’m…” he started, feeling the familiar sting in the corners of his eyes. “I’m never going to be ready for you to go, ‘Mal. Me, or Prudence, or Dorcas, or Agatha…”

“My dear boy,” she said. “You will be just fine. Do you know why?”

He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to look at her, but he tried anyway.

“Because the four of you have each other,” she said. “And you are a family.”

Nick remembered what Sabrina said, how love was self-sustaining, how it didn’t need much to exist, how it would never be erased, and he found some peace in that.

“Amalia?” Agatha’s voice lingered as she approached. “I have your tea.”

“Thank you.” Amalia sat up as his sister set the tray of tea down on the tree stump near the swing, Nick wiping away at his eyes, focusing his gaze on something other than her. 

How did they ever get here, he wondered, how did they ever let it get so bad.

Amalia glanced down into her teacup, smiling. “I remember when the two of you were little,” she said. “You both grew at the same time. Tried to pass off as twins whenever people asked.” She shook her head as she recounted the memories. “Agatha, you taught Nick to braid your hair so you wouldn’t have to tire your hands, but Nick was so eager to help he didn’t even care, he did it anyway. Every night.”

Nick felt the corner of his mouth faintly quirk up at the memory. Agatha remained quiet.

“And remember when you went off to California, Nick? Agatha didn’t let anyone see her cry. But she came down to dinner with her eyes red for a whole week.” Amalia was outright smiling by that point, a laugh trickling out as well, as warm as the very sun that was retreating behind the horizon. “God, the two of you missed each other so much you both flew out, met each other halfway in—where was it?” she asked, pausing to think for a moment.

“Kansas City,” Agatha answered, Nick’s eyes snapping up in surprise. “It was so fucking _boring.”_

“Was not,” Nick said before he could stop himself. “We went through the art district, got tipsy because we thought we were drinking sparkling water all day when in reality, it was hard seltzer.” His smile grew. “We lost our shit in the hotel lobby because one of the abstract pieces on the wall looked like a poorly drawn dick.”

_“You_ lost your shit,” Agatha said. “I had to drag you into an elevator, apologizing to several people on the way because you couldn’t pull yourself together. _I,_ on the other hand, was perfectly fine.” She shook her head, though she appeared a bit amused. “We only stayed one night anyway. I don’t even know why we did it.”

“Because you love each other,” Amalia said simply. “That’s why.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to let me know your thoughts! I live for the validation, but I also am curious about the things that resonate with people.


	32. if i didn't know better, i'd think you were still around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's angst after this! please proceed with caution, as there is a whole funeral in this chapter.

*

Amalia’s passing came quietly.

Sabrina woke, in the middle of the night, to find Ambrose standing in her doorway, the glow of his cellphone illuminating his grim expression from afar as he clicked off a call. He hadn’t had to say anything, she’d just known. And so she’d gotten up in a daze to pull something on in the dark while Ambrose waited for her at the bottom of the stairs.

Neither of them spoke much on their way to Amalia’s little blue home, Ambrose driving in silence while she pressed her cheek to the window, breath fogging the glass and blurring away the image of the street. It felt better than crying, because every other time she had come down this way had been met with Amalia at the end, and it hurt knowing she wouldn’t be there to greet her this time.

When they arrived at the Wolfe residence, it was Nick they came across first. He was seated on the porch steps, backlit by the light spilling out through the open front door. He didn’t react when they pulled into the drive, didn’t even look up when they parked behind Prudence’s Range rover. It was only when he saw Sabrina come out of the vehicle that the slope of his shoulders fell, as though he felt he could finally release the tension wound up in them. Ambrose dropped his hand on Nick’s shoulder in passing, squeezing once before he nodded and went off inside, following the sound of sniffling and muffled voices, in search of Prudence.

“I had to step out,” Nick said. “Dorcas won’t stop crying and—I don’t know what to do.”

Sabrina sat down beside him on the step, snaking her arm around him and kissing his shoulder when he started to tremble. 

“She just…left,” he continued, clarifying further, “Amalia. Just like that...Like it was nothing.” He finally looked at her. “I thought it would be different, more severe...but it was like she just fell asleep. I tried to wake her...I tried—” 

And like that, the rubber band holding Nick together snapped. Sabrina swept him up into her arms when he began to collapse, shoulders shaking they crumpled inward and he melted against her. There wasn’t much she could say—no words that could bandage the hurt Nick felt at the moment—but she could hold him, offer him comfort and a hand to grasp, something solid to wrap himself around. That could be enough for now.

“Sabrina,” Nick breathed against her neck, voice so bruised and raw it almost sent a shiver down her spine. Sabrina clutched him tighter, pressed her mouth against his hair as he shook.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered. “I’ve got you always.” 

*

The day of the funeral could be considered a wonder in itself. Sabrina watched as businesses, _Cassius’_ and _Sweets by Hilda_ included, shut down, locking their doors for the day in support of their fellow townsfolk. After being away for a few years, it was easy to forget that that was the norm for Greendale, that people were important enough to stop the world for, even if it was just for a day.

Sabrina and Ambrose stuck around the mortuary, offering assistance in Zelda’s end of the family business, something neither of them had particularly jumped at in the past but had decided together they would make sure all was perfect for Amalia. 

It was a somber affair, dealt mostly in quiet as they straightened chairs and fluffed bouquets for what seemed like the thousandth time. Sabrina tried her hardest not to glance over at the photos spread out along the table at the front of the room, the ones Hilda herself had requested. She had hurried back to the mortuary the night before with them fresh off the printer, perfect copies of the ones lining Amalia’s hallway. At the very center sat the Halloween photograph Sabrina had noticed some weeks ago, their tiny, blushing faces bright as they crammed into the viewfinder.

So Sabrina went on, fidgeting for most of the morning as she moved about, looking for something else to tidy, something else to assist in. If she paused long enough, her thoughts would run back to Nick and his sisters. He had assured her that they were alright, the four of them choosing to get ready in Amalia’s that morning despite that they had all spent the night at the mortuary, Nick curled up under her bed covers together, hands clasped as they faced one another. They hadn’t talked much, settling for the silence they both knew he’d desperately need with the coming days.

After the funeral room was set up for Amalia’s service, Sabrina left. Ambrose found her hunched over a small plant in front of the kitchen window, his hand dropping to rest on her shoulder as he approached, careful not to startle her.

“What’s that, cousin?”

Sabrina glanced up, stepping a bit to the side so that he could see as well. “A while ago, Amalia had Hilda take a cutting of her teal olive plant so she could propagate her own to grow at the mortuary. Well, it’s finally ready to be transferred into the garden, but Hilda decided she wanted to offer it to Nick and the girls, instead.” She smiled timidly. “We thought maybe they could plant it beside Amalia. She always did love to sit out on the porch and have her tea next to it.”

A gentle smile fluttered to life on Ambrose’s face, his features softening a touch further. “That’s a lovely idea,” he said.

“I hope it’s not crossing a line,” Sabrina continued. “I really don’t want to mess anything up today, but I thought she might like it…”

Ambrose gave a lock of her hair a small tug. “I’m sure they’ll like it,” he said. “And if it’s Prudence you’re worried about offending, you shouldn’t. She’s rather sentimental, even if she won’t admit it.”

“Right…” Sabrina said, her voice taking on a slightly joking tone as she rolled her eyes.

“It’s true,” Ambrose defended. “And you’d better not tell her I said that, either.”

“Of course not.” Sabrina shrugged. “Much better to save that piece of info in case I need to blackmail you later on.”

Ambrose pinched her side and she jumped, smacking him back. She returned her attention to the small plant, turning it a bit and setting it back on the window sill, sunlight swallowing it once more. 

“I miss her,” Sabrina revealed a moment later. “And I just...I feel like I was just starting to get to know her, too. I’d just met her…” She had hoped to know Amalia for a long time, hoped she could be someone Sabrina came to see whenever she was in town, to have tea with on the weekends while they waited for Nick to finish at the bookstore. Her heart settled back on him. “I can’t even imagine what they must be feeling right now...Nick, Prudence, Agatha, Dorcas.”

Her cousin tugged her in, slotting her against him while she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. He rubbed her back soothingly. “All we can do is be there, cousin, offer a shoulder when we can, help them while they mourn,” he said. “Amalia was a good mum and they’ll remember her as such, but no matter what, it will still hurt.”

She nodded against him.

Hilda entered then, donned in a dark dress and matching cardigan. There was a soft pink peony pinned to the front of it, something she had decided to wear in fond memory of her friend. “The siblings should be pulling in any moment,” she said. “I was thinking I should get a kettle going for them—a spot of tea before everyone else arrives.”

*

Time stopped feeling real the moment Amalia passed, and since then, it had felt like he was walking through a dense fog with no end in sight, accepting condolences left and right, trying to decide if he was being polite enough, if he was smiling at the right times, if he was there when he was supposed to be. If he was taking enough time for himself like Sabrina suggested. 

If Prudence was going to draw away again. If Dorcas was going to fall asleep only to wake up in a fit of sobs again. If Agatha was going to let him hold her hand ever again.

The funeral wasn’t any different, time existing in a weird bubble, speeding at times and slowing down at others. The only thing that remained a constant was the press of Dorcas at his right side, and the weight of Sabrina’s fingers in his as she stood on his left. Words were exchanged, but Nick wasn’t sure he could remember what anyone said—what he said in return, if he did at all. Or if he had just stood silent, the boy who’d lost his voice.

The burial was to be held in the cemetery some miles down the road, a quaint chunk of land near the tree line of the Greendale Wood. Amalia’s only request had been that she not be buried anywhere near her ex-husband, so she had chosen a plot on the opposite side of the cemetery some years back, jokingly mentioning to Zelda that she didn’t want her ghost mingling with his. That memory almost made him smile. Amalia had always found a way to laugh at everything, no matter how grim.

Unlike the ceremony beforehand, only those closest to her were to attend the burial. Nick and his sisters, the bits of Amalia’s closest friends, the Spellmans, and no one else. The smaller crowd should have been better, easier, but it was quiet—so terribly quiet. There was no difference, visibly, in anything around him, either. The treetops were just as vibrant, the sky just as blue, not at all dull the way Nick thought the world would look without Amalia in it.

It was when Sabrina clutched his hand that he realized Amalia was sinking.

And so Nick watched her go, and with her, in clarity, he saw his childhood. He saw quiet nights on the old couch in her living room, breaking the silence only to ask how to say a specific word in the book he’d been reading. He saw the afternoons spent sitting out on the patio, eating grilled cheeses from Cee’s while Amalia taught them how to play monopoly, saw her slipping them all extra paper money under the table when they were low. Those games went on for hours, only ending when they were bored and tired and he was arguing with Prudence over some stupid rule one of them had broken. He saw scraped knees and tears and kisses, hugs as she cradled him close when he woke up trembling, night after night, from his nightmares. 

He saw it all in kaleidoscope vision and at the end of it, even with her absence, Nick didn’t feel any less loved.

He was still standing, waiting, even when the ground above her had been filled and the voices beside him stirred to life, the sound muffled, hands clasping his shoulders and then letting go. He felt Sabrina’s absence at his side and looked to see that she had gone off with Ambrose to his car. She returned not long after, biting her lip, a small terracotta pot in her hands, the beginnings of a dark green plant sprouting from its center.

“I hope this is okay,” she said, her cheeks flushed pink in the sunlight, eyes tinged the same color around the edges. 

“What’s that?” Nick heard himself ask, his own voice sounding foreign to his ears. Beside him, Prudence had come up, tilting her head to look as well.

“Hilda clipped this from Amalia’s tea olive some time ago. She’s been propagating it and it’s ready to be planted and...Well, we thought maybe…” She glanced at Agatha and Dorcas as well, the two a bit further back but looking on tentatively. “We thought the four of you could plant it beside her. It’ll grow into a bush like the one out by her patio. Hilda said she wouldn’t mind tending to it when it needs it, but it grows so well on its own, and since Amalia loved hers so…”

She pressed her lips together as though realizing she had been rambling. 

“Well, that’s just…” Prudence began.

“You don’t have to, of course. It was only an idea—”

“I didn’t say it was a bad one,” Prudence cut in. “She was so proud of that thing. Seemed like a weed to me but I guess that’s why she managed to get it thriving.”

“It was the only thing she _could_ get thriving,” Nick commented and the edge of his sudden, quiet smile hurt as it pressed into his cheek, a stranger cutting through the perpetual frown he’d worn the last few days.

“She called it her fifth kid, didn’t she?”

Nick looked to Agatha, almost shocked to see she had spoken. She had been quiet, contemplative, since Amalia’s passing, her words few and far between, said in passing and offering no real look into her mind. He had wanted to tug on her braid the way he used to do whenever she was too far gone in her own mind as a kid, but he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t.

“Amalia would love it,” Dorcas said. “Can we?”

“I don’t see why not,” Prudence said at the same time that Nick offered, “Of course.”

At that, Dorcas beamed, her swollen eyes crinkling as a smile overtook her face. She held out her hands expectantly for the tiny plant, which Sabrina handed over quickly. Nick would have planted a million bushes if it meant Dorcas wouldn’t cry again.

Sabrina went into the tote bag at her side to withdraw a garden shovel, which she passed to Dorcas as well. And then after cupping his cheek tenderly, she went back down the hill and to Ambrose’s car again.

*

Sabrina leaned back against the side of the car, fingers hooked together in front of her as she gazed up the hill where Amalia had been buried. She could see the siblings, little pin-prick silhouettes. She could see Dorcas’ as she knelt down with Prudence beside the gravestone, a heart-achingly fresh one amongst the weathered, to plant the tea olive.

She watched Prudence swipe a lock of hair from her sister’s face before they stood, Dorcas’ arm looping through hers for balance. She watched the four of them as they gathered in a half-circle around the burial site for their final farewell, watched as Nick’s shoulders tensed from afar before a deep rumble settled through them, pinpointing the moment when the day’s events caught up to him, when he found it impossible to be brave even a moment longer. 

She watched everything like a set of dominoes toppling over, and yet, she still didn’t expect to see Agatha as she reached out across that tender fault that still stood between them, across the mottled and frayed edges of their relationship, to take Nick’s hand.

“Cousin?”

Sabrina glanced to her right as the passenger side window rolled down just enough for Ambrose to speak through.

“We should get going,” he said. “Auntie Hilda needs our help with dinner. They’ll make their way there when they’re good and ready. Let’s give them some space, shall we?”

“Coming,” Sabrina returned. She propped the door open and slipped into the seat beside him, casting one final glance at the siblings before she reached for Ambrose’s hand the way Agatha had gone for Nick’s. 

*

They had their fourth and final milkshake date on a Thursday three weeks after Amalia’s funeral. They sat across from one another in their usual booth at Cee’s while the remnants of August’s heatwave clung to the air and rolled down the sides of their glasses, pooling at the bottom. Whipped cream deflated, chocolate chips sank, and July had ended but Sabrina had not yet left. She had decided some time ago not to even consider the state bar exam that summer, thought that her best bet would be to aim for February when she had the time to actually study and prepare. She thought she could settle down in Greendale in the future, could make a home there.

Regardless, her plan at the beginning of that summer had been to board a plane to _somewhere_ by August. Her job at the cafe didn’t pay an extravagant amount, but that paired with her savings had offered enough for a bit of travel before she had to set down roots long enough to make that money back. 

And yet, she was still in that small, pin-prick of a town, and the truth was: she could have stayed. She could have waited to leave, but she could see by the look in Nick’s eyes that he was becoming stir-crazy on her behalf.

“Spellman,” he said when he caught her tapping the side of her glass, “I can hear you thinking.” There was a moment of lag before she caught back up to reality, blinking before she looked up at him. She smiled then, folded her legs under her on the bench and leaned across the table to kiss him. When she drew back, she let her thumb trace down his slightly confused, though thoroughly pleased, expression. His smiles had been tender as of recently, sometimes seemingly held up by a mere thread.

His grief often came in waves. The worst of it came during the times when Amalia’s absence simply slipped from his mind—when he patted down his pockets for his phone with the intent to call her on his mind only to realize all over again that no one would pick up. Her phone was still plugged in on the counter in the kitchen, still in it the spot where she had left it. A silent, mutual agreement seemed to stand between the siblings. No one dared to touch it, to unplug it and put it away, because that meant she was gone for good.

But through his grief, he still tried. Sabrina saw it every morning. He woke up. He got dressed. He tried, even if he didn’t want to, even if it hurt.

“I’m just thinking about everything,” she said while he kissed the pad of her thumb and then took her gently by the wrist so he could place another on her palm. “What about you? What are _you_ thinking about?”

“You,” he answered.

Sabrina glanced up. “What about me?”

“About how I know you’re itching for something different.”

Sabrina’s lower lip pouted in slight offense. “I’m not,” she defended.

He chuckled, the sound like honey, making her stomach jitter. “I know you, Spellman. You are, and it’s okay.” Nick lowered both of their hands to the table, his fingers finding a home laced through hers. “I mean, you didn’t expect to stay here this long when you came back, did you?”

“No,” she admitted, gaze falling to the table for a moment, watching the sunlight glint off the condensation on her glass. “But things change, don’t they? It’s hard to plan ahead sometimes, and I have no regrets staying here as long as I have.” She had loved every bit of her time in Greendale, from reconnecting with Nick to meeting and growing closer to Amalia. She wouldn’t have traded that summer for anything.

“I know,” he told her, his thumb brushing hers. If there was anything she had made sure he’d known well was how deeply she loved him—how deeply she loved those important to him. “I love you.”

“I love you back,” Sabrina said. “But Nick...I don’t really think right now is a good time.”

“You’re worried about me,” he said.

“I mean, yeah,” she admitted. “You just lost your mom, Nick.”

His nod was slow, gaze falling to the table. With his free hand, he started to trace the hairline cracks in the laminate. “I’m going to be okay,” he said. “That’s what everyone says, and even though it doesn’t feel like it at all sometimes, I think I will be. I _know_ I will be. Amalia told me that, too, and she could have made a career out of being right all the time.” Nick exhaled, the end of it feathering off into a soft chuckle. “That’s the one damn thing she made sure to pass onto Prudence.”

Sabrina couldn’t help it when she giggled quietly at that, shaking her head at the mention of Prudence. However right Nick was, she still didn’t like the idea of leaving him behind. “Still,” she decided, “I’d miss you too much.”

She couldn’t leave now. 

Not after she had grown used to falling asleep beside him, sometimes in the middle of a barely coherent sentence, other times in the silent aftermath of a hundred love-drunk exhales. Not after she had grown used to waking up to him, their bodies pressed together in the most unflattering, most devoted way, listening to him breathing against the dip of her neck in the quiet morning.

Not after she had grown to love the way his shadow looked beside hers on the sidewalk, linked by the hand wherever she went—wherever he went—so close that not even a sliver of light could pass between them.

"Well..." Nick’s lip curved up into something that resembled a shy smile and quietly, as though afraid of rejection, he asked, “What if I was right next to you?”

“Are you saying you want to run away with me?”

“Are _you_ saying you’d let me?”

“Dummy,” Sabrina said lovingly, reaching up to stroke his cheek, “like you even have to ask.”

She hadn’t even considered asking Nick to come with her, but now that he had offered, she realized it made the most sense that it would be him, that it would be her. Amalia had said that wherever Sabrina went would be brighter, and maybe it would be that way because Nick was beside her.

He kissed her that time, closing the space between them like it was an unwelcome stranger, something that didn’t belong. It lit her up from the inside out.

When the kiss ended, he didn’t move away, staying close enough that Sabrina could count the specks of brown in his eyes. 

“I guess we should decide where to,” he suggested.

“I’ve been thinking of Rome,” Sabrina revealed. “My parents were headed there before their plane went down and I’ve always thought about how I’d like to finish their journey one day.”

*

Nowadays, whenever Nick accidentally let the front door to Amalia’s slam shut, no one yelled at him. The silence was a tragedy of its own, so unlike the tone the house had once held. Gone was the music ribboning through the hallways, the monotone murmur of a TV droning on somewhere in the distance. There was only the gentle thrum of someone—one of his sisters, no doubt—moving upstairs as he and Sabrina entered, but even that was so quiet they’d nearly missed it. 

Sabrina held his hand as they went up the stairs, the small piece of luggage thumping against the stairs as Nick lugged it up. Since he’d been living with Amalia toward the end of her life, most of his more regularly worn clothing was still there, tucked away in the dresser in the corner of his old bedroom and they had come by to grab it before their trip. In a few hours, they would be on a train headed for the city where a flight would take them out of the country.

She was so patient with him, giving him time while still steering him in the right direction. Together, they began to pack the remainder of what he wanted to bring. Their goal had been to pack light, to bring only enough so that they wouldn’t be weighted down to any city in particular, allowing them to wander with ease when they wanted it.

He looked at Sabrina, his fearless girl who had never once dropped his hand and smiled when he caught the focused appearance of her face, the top of her pink tongue poking out between her teeth, brows set low in concentration as she held up two sweaters.

“Which one?” she asked, meeting his eyes.

“Black one,” Nick said, the corners of his lips lifting further when she frowned.

“Nick, they’re _both_ black.”

“That one is black,” he clarified, pointing to one of them, and then to the other, “that one is charcoal.”

“And _you_ are seriously getting on my nerves,” she replied, shaking her head as she stuck the rejected sweater back into the drawer, neatly folded. Even as she tossed the one he’d chosen gently at him, he could see that she was fighting off a smile of her own. “How can someone have so many pieces of clothing in the same color? Are you afraid they’re going to run out of black dye in the near futur—oh my God, _burgundy!_ You’re taking this one for sure.” She made a dramatic show out of her realization and Nick knew she was intentionally trying to make him laugh, trying to lighten the mood in the quiet house.

He did laugh, laughed enough that he could only respond by leaning in to kiss her, the crescent dip of her smile meeting his clumsily in her attempt to get away.

“Nick,” she exhaled as a giggle. “You’re messing up my lipstick—it’s going to get all over you.”

“You wanted to see me in more colors,” he defended, pressing an intentionally sloppy smooch against her red lips in retaliation. When she laughed, Nick fell in love all over again. 

As if to get the last word in, she cupped his jaw and turned his head to the side so she could plant a kiss on his cheek, one that left a perfect imprint of her lips on the olive skin there. She sat back in satisfaction after that, her lips still drawn into a smile as she went back to digging through the bottom of his dresser.

They went on that way for a while longer, sorting through the remainder of his things, tucking into them neatly into place in his luggage and returning the things he decided against. Once they were through, he zipped up the sides and stood. It was time to leave. The thought felt bittersweet. Nick wanted to go. He knew Amalia wouldn’t have wanted him to wither away in that home, grieving until he was too numb to recover. But it was still home. It always had been and it always would be.

“I’m going to head down and call Ambrose, see if he’s ready to drop us off at the train station. I’ll meet you downstairs,” Sabrina told him. She kissed his cheek as she passed, tapping away at the screen of her phone in search of her cousin’s number. Nick was grateful that she could read him so well, could tell that he wanted some time alone.

He breathed out in her absence, letting his eyes wander over the tiny bedroom. It wasn’t very big, nor was it anything extravagant. The furniture had been old or otherwise cheaply built, the walls in need of fresh paint, the floorboards creaky and a little cracked in some spots, but that room—that house—had been his safe space growing up. Amalia had done all she could to provide for them, to offer them somewhere they could feel comfortable. Nick would forever be grateful for that.

The door to the room beside his was open when he peered down the hallway on his way out, the sound of shuffling prevalent. That room shared a wall with his, a wall he could remember knocking on enough times in the past and hearing it echo back. He still knew that secret language of theirs. Three knocks for _are you okay?_ Two back for _yes,_ one for _no._

Once, he hadn’t thought twice before breezing in through her door. Now, he stood just outside, unsure whether he should enter. 

“Hey.”

Agatha looked up from where she sat nestled between a few cardboard boxes, all of them in varying stages of being filled. “Hey,” she echoed.

“I’m leaving,” Nick said, hoping she might care. “I, um, I’m not sure when we’ll be back but…”

He wasn’t sure what he expected to hear back, but he certainly hadn’t thought she’d stand. “Wait,” Agatha said, dusting off her knees before she stepped around the boxes. Out of her nearby bag, she dug out a pale yellow post-it note and held it out to him. From where he stood, he caught sight of a few numbers, a street name, and quickly realized it was an address.

Nick took it, confused.

“I’m moving,” she said, “to the city. That’s my new address, I...thought maybe you could send me a postcard or something.”

“Yeah. _Yes,”_ Nick exhaled before the words completely registered. “Of course,” he promised.

“Cool,” Agatha said, wearing the smallest inkling of a smile as she moved back to her spot in the middle of the room. “I’d say ‘be safe,’ but seeing as your traveling companion is Sabrina Spellman, it should be ‘good luck.’”

Before Nick left he meant to say, _I’ll miss you,_ but instead, he said, “I miss you.”

_Constantly,_ he thought, _always._

There was a beat of silence before Agatha nodded. “Me too,” she said, going back to folding the worn throw blanket Amalia had gifted her years ago. “I’ll see you when you come back.”

Nick rapped his knuckles twice on her door frame before he left down the hallway to meet Sabrina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got very emotional over Nick and Agatha this chapter. I just love them so much ughh.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought! One more update after this!! And then this fic that I've been working on for over a year is ending. So bittersweet for me, but I can't wait to share my other ideas with you guys too! Thanks for sticking through this with me, I really am so grateful <3
> 
> Give me a follow over on [tumblr](https://bunivys.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to keep up with my future projects (or just to hang out)!


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